One Less SLeeping Bag
by pottermeg95
Summary: Sherlock and Molly go undercover at a campsite to catch a killer. The only thing is can Sherlock keeps his feelings for Moll under wraps? and can Molly keep hers in check? The duo have a lot more then just a killer to catch on this trip.
1. Chapter 1

One Less Sleeping Bag.

Sherlock Holmes was gazing out of his window, when a very tired, very haggard looking John Watson came into 221B. John staggered towards his old chair and plopped down with a big sigh. Sherlock turned towards his friend seeming somewhat annoyed.

"you're late" was all he said as he took a seat in his chair opposite from his friend.

"Well Mary did just have a baby 42 hours ago" John said

" Yes, John. I was there in that stuffy waiting room for five tedious hours. I am very aware of the situation."

" Yeah, I don't think you are. I should be at home taking care of Isabelle so Mary can have a proper rest. We are both very tired and trying to get used to being new parents. The only reason I came was because you were very insistent. Although I don't know why that should come to a shock for m-"

"Don't ramble John. You know how I can't stand rambling. It doesn't matter because we have a case!"

Sherlock looked very happy as he relayed this news to John and hopped out of his chair, bouncing on his feet.

"Now this case is going to take at least two days away from the city, at a campsite. Where we will have to go undercover as campers. Lestrade believes that the killer from the Victim In The Garden case, is hiding out as a camper. Unfortunately this is the time of year camping is popular so it may be a b it pretentious to say it will only take two days could take more."

Sherlock said all this pacing infront of John. John waited for Sherlock to go on, but after a couple of minutes passed by saw that he was finished... for now. So John sat up straight and leaned forward.

" Look Sherlock... you know how much I love working on cases, but I can not be gone for more then three hours right now never mind two days!"

" Or more" was all he said, as he continued pacing. John leaned back and started rubbing his temples to help soothe his oncoming headache. He decided he would wait until Sherlock was fully ready and alert before discussing things further. But as the hands on the clock ticked slowly, John's eyelids started to flutter shut. Until they finally closed for good, until ten minutes later Sherlock woke him up with a very hard pinch to the shoulder.

"OUCH! What in the bloody hell was that for?!"

"John, I just alerted you to a case and all you can do is sleep? John the Game is on!" Sherlock bounded towards his bedroom leaving a groggy John to rub at his slightly sore shoulder. When Sherlock returned he held a very large camping bag in hand looking expectantly at John. "Well hurry up! There is a murder to get!" Sherlock was all smiles.

"Sherlock I just told you I can not come. Sorry mate there is just no way."

"of course there s just call Mary tell her the situation and it can be all sorted"

"No sorry, this time it can't be sorted. Mary is still in pain and is very tired. She needs me." John was standing his ground. Although he wish he could go and run off for a couple days to catch a criminal with his best friend, he couldn't. He was a husband and father first. Sherlock dropped his bag on the floor and sat back down in his char.

"How am I suppose to do this by myself there is too many people for me by myself."

"can't you ask Greg to come along?" Sherlock looked at John scrunching up his face in confusion.

"Lestrade"

"Oh, no. He has way to many things he has to take care of in London." Sherlock clasped his hands together and steepled them under his chin. John tried to come up with someone who could accompany Sherlock on this case. He first thought of Mycroft, but thought better not mention it considering the very long speech he would get for even coming up with that idea. When suddenly a certain pathologist came to mind.

"Sherlock.."

"Yes, John?"

"What about Molly?"


	2. Chapter 2

A whole three minutes has passed since John mentioned Molly. And it has been a whole three minutes that Sherlock has sat frozen, just staring. John keeps looking around and back at his friend to see if anything has changed. Nope.

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm. No." with his answer Sherlock dashes to the window leaving John to stare at his back.

"No? Sherlock did you just-"

"John you know what I said, why bother asking me again. Why do you people always do that!." trying to ignore the aggravated state his friend is suddenly in John just continues on.

"Okay fine, but why wouldn't you ask molly to assist you on this case? She's helped you before and right now she's your only option."

"I have given you my answer, now think! There must be someone else" Sherlock turns around aggressively and strides to his chair by his laptop and sits facing John. John is quite taken aback by Sherlock's quick change in attitude. There is a brief moment of sielnce until Sherlock snaps his fingers."Anderson!"

"You don't like him"

"He is stupid and annoying. Luckily for him it doesn't take much to help me scan a crowd now does it?" John gets quickly offended as just half an hour ago he was that suppose "help me scan a crowd" man. Sherlock notices the change in John's mood. " I have offended you. Please don't take it personal John."

"No why would I?" John retorts sarcastically, but one look at Sherlock who seems to be upset he immediately regrets it. "Look Sherlock I get that you are upset that I brought Molly up, but that doesn't mean you get to act like a dick." Sherlock changes his face to hide his emotions.

"upset? Why would I be upset that you brought Molly up?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Well there is nothing to tell John because I am not upset." John could clearly tell Sherlock didn't want to talk about his feelings. Naturally he never did. But John knew for some reason Molly Hooper is a touchy subject for the always cool and collected detective. "So Anderson. Do you have his number?"

John quickly snapped out of his train of thought as Sherlock spoke.

"Yeah, but he is away on holiday for two weeks."

"Sally"

"You have been fully present when she's around you right? She wouldn't help you even if you paid her."

"I am afraid you're quite right." Sherlock looked down trying to decide what to do next. John was curious as to why Sherlock was avoiding to get Molly to be his partner for this case. He knew he may regret asking this, but he needed to try to pry it out of his friend.

"Why are you so adamant on it not being Molly?" Sherlock snapped his head up at his friend and sighed.

"Well she was very angry with me at our last encounter."

"Yes, but that has been almost four months..." John trails off lost in thought. "That's why you have been having me go to St. Barts as you're lackey! to pick up all those bloody body parts of yours and to take pictures of bodies. You're avoiding Molly."

"I wouldn't say avoiding John, just giving her-"

"Yes, you are, your scared"

"what?! Don't be ridiculous John" Sherlock tries to cover it with a laugh."I could easily physically over power Molly, if need be."

"No I mean your scared of how she will treat you. You are used to her being sweet and gentle with you. Not the dominant, pissed off woman who slapped you." John starts to laugh. "The Great Sherlock Holmes scared of Molly Hooper" John can't contain his laughter anymore, especially when he sees Sherlock's cheeks turn a bit red, but he quickly composes himself back to neutral.

"I am not scared of Molly Hooper"

"You keep telling yourself that mate. Don't worry every man feels this way when their... a woman is mad at them." Sherlock scowls at John.

"I am not like every man, I will prove to you I am not scared." John leans forward in his chair.

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Molly is going camping with me." and before John can utter another world Sherlock leaped off his chair, grabbed his belstaff and scarf and was out the door. Leaving John all alone in 221B.


	3. Chapter 3

Molly has had a very uneventful day, scratch that she has had a very uneventful couple of months. Ever since Sherlock has been avoiding her like the black plague. Did he think she wouldn't have guessed? Before this he came in almost every week if not everyday. Now he doesn't come at all he just texts her when he is in need of body parts and sends John to fetch them for him. He does the same when Greg has a victim he wants checked out. It's always John never him.

It's her own fault really. In some ways she is glad that she did it, slapped him and gave him a good scolding. He is a complete ass and needs to be put in his place. At the same time though she recognizes that her feelings towards him had been a big factor. She had to break her engagement to Tom a month before. Mostly because she knew it wasn't fair for Tom. Since Sherlock got back everything changed for her. Her feelings came back like a ton of bricks at every glance his way. John and Mary's wedding was the last straw. She couldn't pretend anymore that she loved Tom as much as Sherlock. She did love Tom in a way, just not the way he wanted her to. So two days after the wedding she ended it with Tom. S

he didn't see Sherlock for a month. Until John dropped him off for a drug test. So not only was she mad about the drugs, she was also mad that he made her feel the way she does about him. Because she is afraid she never can really move on from him. She knows Sherlock wants nothing more then friendship with her and she has come to terms with that. That won't make her stop loving him. As all of this was running through her head she didn't even hear the door open or a set of footsteps that stopped when they reached her side. She felt a light tap on her right shoulder and she looked up and saw Sherlock. She couldn't help the slight blush she had from seeing him, because of her earlier thoughts.

"Hello Molly"

"Did you want any body parts, because you didn't text me. So I don't have any prepared." Sherlock studied Molly to see how she felt towards him. She didn't seem angry anymore, which he took as a sign to proceed.

"That's quite alright Molly. I am not here for pleasure strictly business"

"Oh, well Greg didn't say anything about..." Molly trailed off as she saw the confused look on his face. She rolled her eyes. "Lestrade, didn't say there was a body to examine."

"That is because there is not. Molly I need you to-"

"Help Solve a case"

"Go camping with me" they both said that at the same time. Molly quickly thought she had best stop doing that.

"Camping?" Molly was dumbfounded. Sherlock and camping? It just doesn't make sense.

"Well yes a case involving camping. We will have to go undercover as campers. As there is a really good chance there is a killer hiding in the campsite."

"Why do you want me to help you?" the words left her mouth before she had time to stop them. Molly mentally kicked herself for not filtering her thoughts with her mouth.

"Naturally my first choice was John. But seeing as he is rather engaged at the moment with Mary just given birth-"

"Oh that's right. How is little Isabelle?" Molly said smiling remembering the cute little pink baby wrapped in a big pink blanket.

"Doing very well. Please do try not to interrupt Molly."

"Right. Sorry,"

"So with John busy, I need you to help with this case." Sherlock waited for Molly to respond. She just kept staring at him. After a minute passed she spoke.

"why now?"

"why now what?"

"You have been avoiding me for months and then you just show up here needing me to work on a case! As if you haven't been avoiding me at all." Sherlock began to internally panic. As he could see Molly getting quite upset with him. He did not want that. So Sherlock went for something that always worked on Molly.

"I am sorry Molly. Forgive me?" When Sherlock didn't get the instant forgiveness and Molly like smile that usually accompanied his apologies, he met her gaze and tried to read her. Molly seemed to be having an internal battle with herself. He could see she wanted to just let go and forgive him. But her new found confidence is raging a war and he fears that he is about to be ever so sorry for using her feelings to his advantage in the past.

"Am I suppose to just accept that?!" Molly could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. As she remembered how he didn't come to Barts not once in the months that passed. Now he needs something. He only wants her when convenient to him. As her anger started to show so did the hurt of his actions. Sherlock could see now that avoiding her might not of been the best move on his part. He felt incredibly guilty. Now she thinks he is only using her. Like he did in the past. He had deduced right. As soon as he registered that he was feeling guilty, he became quite upset at himself for letting her make him feel all of these emotions. Yes he felt guilty when he made John believe he was dead for two years, and he shot Magnussen to keep his family safe. John was his best friend. Yes over the years he had allowed for some sentiment. But he promised himself no more. He cared about Molly as a friend. So these emotions towards her he was feeling shouldn't bother him so much. But they did. Suddenly he became angry that out of all the people. It is Molly Hooper who makes him feel these things. As he got angrier at the situation, he also lost his patience. .

"I don't see why not! It's worked every other time!" Sherlock yelled harshly. Molly took a step back, a bit frightened of Sherlock's new found anger. She dropped her gaze to the floor, hiding the tears that pooled behind her eyes. Sherlock instantly regretted getting impatient with her as soon as he saw her step back and the tears she tried not to shed. Apart of him told himself she deserved it for making him feel things he didn't want to feel. He quickly pushed those thoughts away as he slowly stepped towards Molly. Concern written all over his face. "Molly I'm sorry. I truly am. I did not mean to get impatient with you." Molly looked up and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She began to feel guilty as well. She shouldn't have gotten so angry at him. She let her feelings get in the way. She knows Sherlock is not like everyone else, he does things his way. He also doesn't understand how to handle certain situations. Molly took a deep breath.

"It's okay. I was wrong as well. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you, I'm sorry. It's just when you avoided me..." Molly wanted to tell him it hurt her. But thought best to avoid feelings when dealing with Sherlock. "It's just... I thought we were friends."

"We are" Sherlock gave a small smile to reassure her. She returned the smile, but Sherlock could see something was still bothering her. "What is it that you would like to say?"

"Well... I-I just.. wanted to know why. Why you avoided being around me in person. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with how I treated you that day." Sherlock knew he should be honest with her. He should tell her, That he was shocked at who she had become in that moment. It was a side of Molly he never knew she had. Although on some level he enjoyed her being in control and honest. He also didn't like the disappointment written plainly on her face. She was disappointed in him. He realized he didn't ever want to disappoint her, not again. John was right earlier when he said Sherlock was scared how Molly would treat him when he saw her again. That is why he avoided Molly. He didn't know if she would still be... disappointed with him.

" I will admit I was surprised at your sudden outburst. But I avoided you because... Well truth be told it hurt my ego when you slapped me in front of all those people. So it was just my pride keeping me away." Sherlock knew she would believe this because he did have a rather big ego. It was safer to admit this then to admit his... feelings.

"Oh."

" I hope we can get past this little incident. I also would like you to know that my apologies are sincere and that I do not wish to manipulate you as I did so in the past. Also sorry for that as well." Sherlock hated this. Not only because he was uncomfortable, but because as he were here in the lab. He wasn't at the camp site. Where he wanted to be. There was a case after all!

" Thank-you. I know you mean it." Molly smiled up at him. He liked that smile.

" So if you do not wish to accompany me on this case. I will just-"

"I didn't say that." Molly said rather too quickly. "I mean I just don't know the basics. Like what we should be doing."

"It's simple. There is a killer hiding at a camp site. He has disguised himself from what the police know of his appearance. So we are to go camping for two days or more. To scout the camp for him. It shouldn't be that difficult to deduce one hiding. The only problem is that it is the time of year that camping is quite popular. There will be a lot of people to investigate, which is why I say could be more then two days. But I am certain that with your help two days should do it." Sherlock immediately scolded himself for feeling the need to include the last part. Like he should try to convince her to come.

" It sounds like fun!" Molly did like the thought of spending two days or more alone with Sherlock. Even if it meant just working on a case.

"So will you come with me?"

"Yes, I just have to go home and feed..." Molly almost forgot about her cat Toby! She couldn't leave him without proper care for two days, or more! She reminded herself. "I forgot I have Toby. I can't go." Molly was very disappointed that she couldn't go with Sherlock.

"That's alright, I can get John to stop by your flat to care to your cat's needs" Molly brightened up at the realization there was nothing stopping her from going with him anymore. She quickly got her emotions in check to look calm. After all they were just friends. This was just a friend needing help from another friend.

"Well, then I guess I can help you."

"Excellent! Then I should expect you at the door of 221B at exactly five o'clock,with your belongings. You do not need to worry with a tent or sleeping bag as I have two of each." With that Sherlock strode out of the lab, leaving a very excited Molly to finish her day at work.

At 221B.

As soon as John was certain Sherlock had left and was in a taxi. He quickly pulled out his phone and called Mary. She answered within the third ring. He put her on speaker so he could easily move around.

"You were right. All I had to do was challenge him."

"See I told you! So Molly and Sherlock are going camping together?"

"Well yes, but working on a case remember."

"If that's what your calling it" He could sense Mary's smile through her answer. "Oh this is wonderful! Maybe this is what he needs to finally admit his feelings." John although wish Sherlock would hurry up and admit his feelings towards Molly as well. Because lets face it. Sherlock in love and fighting it is more insufferable then his normal not in love state. Had a hard time believing that Sherlock after spending time with just him and Molly would tell her how he feels. But he didn't want to give his wife's hopes up.

"Maybe, yeah... so what should I do now?"

"Okay. Now Sherlock's camping bag has two tents and two sleeping bags. You need to remove a tent and sleeping bag."

John thought for a moment.

"Don't you think he would notice them missing? Besides there is only one tent. Everyone knows you can't fit two in one bag."

"Well no Sherlock wouldn't notice them missing because when has Sherlock ever double checked? Also he will inform Mycroft to send a man to load the car. So that he wouldn't have to be bothered to touch it until they got to the campsite. And as your remark about there being only one. No. there is one on the outside and one he fit or rather stuffed very forcefully into the part where you store the sleeping bags."

Sure enough John saw when he opened the bag the second tent was stored there. He removed it quickly as well as the sleeping bag. As were his wife's instructions.

"Okay. What do I do with the tent and sleeping bag?"

"Store them in your old room's closet. Oh and stuff a pillow in the bag so if Sherlock looks. The bag still looks full." John could tell Mary was enjoying this way too much.

"Okay, got it!" Just as he answered he heard his daughter screaming from her crib.

"Well I have to go, but please make sure you do everything correctly. Love you bye." she hung up the phone before he could say he loved her back. Even if some of her plans were rather, extreme. This being one of those plans. He quickly grabbed the tent and sleeping bag and stored them in his closet. As soon as he was finished he took his old pillow and stuffed it into the bag as Mary told him to do. When he was finished with his part of the plan. The rest now left up to fate or rather Sherlock himself. John quickly gave a once over and left to head home to his wife and daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

Molly arrives at 221B right on time. Her work clothes now replaced with a white shirt with a bright knit jumper and a pair of black slacks. Her hair re-styled into a pony tail. Molly had a huge backpack filled to the brim. She didn't want to be left out in the middle of no where and in need of something desperately. She opened the door rather slowly, in case Sherlock was already waiting for her down at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn't. Just as she heard the door close behind her, she heard the little ping of her mobile. Molly retrieved it and saw it was a text from Sherlock.

**Right On Time! Be down in a minute – SH**

As soon as she read that she heard frantic footsteps coming down the stairs. She looked up and there he was. Standing on the third to last step looking down at her.

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes"

"Good. I already spoke to John about your cat, it's all sorted."

"Thank-you." it was clear that after a couple of seconds in silence that it had become rather awkward. Well most of their encounters were awkward. Molly could have kissed Mrs. Hudson when she popped out of her flat. They both turned to the housekeeper in unison.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson's cheerful voice rang out as she approached them. She was stopped in her tracks when she noticed Molly. "Hello dear! It's been a while, hasn't it? Do you have any body parts for Sherlock? Oh I do hope Sherlock that if she does, please do not store them in the refrigerator.."

"Well Mrs. Hudson it must be your lucky day as Molly doesn't have any parts for me today."

at that Mrs. Hudson smiled sweetly, at the bliss of not having to go up there later that night to find a head or any other body part stored next to the vegetables. It quickly vanished as a confused expression took it's form.

"Sherlock..." She looked between Molly and him and tried to read the situation. After all this rarely happens. "Why is she here then? Not that your not welcomed dear it's just, unusual." Molly looked down at her hands clasped together. With the realization that, even his land lady questioned why he would want her in his company.

"Mrs. Hudson, Molly and I are going camping for a couple of days. Which reminds me, I will need you to make sure that you relay this to any potential client while I am away. Also! Molly, Mycroft is sending a car it should be here in no more then a couple of minutes, three to be exact unless anything comes up. I can see your bag must be straining on your shoulders, you should put it down. The driver will get it for you anyways." Molly blushed as he deduced her. She also shrugged her bag off, which rewarded her shoulders with instant release. She propped it up against the banister. At that moment her stomach decided that she couldn't hold off eating anything for any longer.

"Sherlock, do you have anything I could eat?" She knew this was a long shot. But she was so excited packing for her trip when she got to her flat, she forgot to eat.

"No, sorry"

"I just made some sandwiches, my friends are coming over tonight for crib. They are on the kitchen counter, help yourself." Mrs. Hudson for the second time today was Molly's life saver. Molly couldn't contain her eagerness when she shot out a very quick thank-you and dashed for her flat. While Molly was having her food fix, Sherlock came down the last three steps. He seemed to be thinking. That didn't bother Mrs. Hudson from interrupting his thoughts.

"So, Sherlock?"

"Mmmm?"

"You and Molly are going camping?"

"Yes, didn't I already say that? I hate repeating myself!"

"Don't be rude Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson scolded. "Anyway, it's just that Molly is a woman dear."

"Well thank-you Mrs. Hudson for that great deduction. I don't know what I would have done without it. Perhaps I would have thought of Molly as a dragon!"

"I am still going to have a word with your mother! Don't forget that Sherlock Holmes!" Mrs. Hudson yelled as she strode into her flat away from the sarcastically rude man.

"I still mean when I say she understands very little!" At that the door opened and a balding man dressed very nicely with a hat and everything entered.

"Mr. Holmes sent me"

"Yes, I am aware. I have a red camping bag upstairs as well as this bag needs to be loaded that is all." The man went upstairs to retrieve the bag as ordered. "Molly! Our ride's here!" Sherlock didn't wait and went out the door. Molly hurried outside still chewing the last bits of her sandwich. Sherlock opened the door of the car for her to get in. She went passed him and scooted to the end of the backseat so that Sherlock could get in. Once he was in he gave her a big smile. Which made her insides melt. She couldn't help, but give him one in return.

"Thank-you Molly for doing this with me. It really does mean a lot."

"It's fine. I am looking forward to it." And with that the driver shut his door. Already finished with loading their bags in the trunk. Started the car and off they went to catch a killer.

Three hours later they arrived at the campsite. Molly was shocked to see that the campsite was uphill. Giving the campers a real outdoors experience! The hill seemed steep, more like one you would hike. The only signs of the camp down hill was the big wooden sign. That read "Welcome to camp paradise!" Molly had to wonder why it would be paradise, considering the fact that your outdoors and have to hike up a big hill to get there. Molly wished she packed light now, it's going to be hell dragging that thing up there. Sherlock broke her from her thoughts as he opened her side of the door for her. He took her hand to help her out of the car. Her legs were a bit cramped, but felt better after getting out.

"Thank-you" Sherlock didn't reply just went to talk with the driver. Molly realized she was still staring at him and quickly turned back to the hill. Maybe the sign had some merit considering her getting to spend time alone with Sherlock seemed a whole lot like paradise to her. Again Sherlock snapped her out of her thoughts as he slammed the trunk shut and patted it, to signal the driver. Before Molly could react the car was speeding off. She looked at Sherlock who slipped on his red camper's bag and her bag hung from his forearm. He didn't offer her, her bag. Molly smiled thinking he is always a gentlemen. She made a start for the hill ready to take on the hike.

"Molly" she turned abruptly towards him. "Haven't you forgot something?" She tried really hard to think what he meant. When her face scrunched up in confusion he answered for her. "Your bag" He held it out towards her letting it swing for emphasis.

"Oh, it's just... I thought... maybe you... you were going to carry it for me." Molly said a bit of pink showing on her face. Though she scolded herself for being embarrassed by this. It was just a misunderstanding. Sherlock walked towards her, but kept her bag in his hand when he got to her. He waited for her to go on. She didn't really have any more to say. She struggled a bit, but came to the conclusion nothing would move forward until she explained herself properly. "Well you had my bag-"

"That's because I retrieved it from the trunk." He interrupted stating the facts. He soon realized he was being rude. "Sorry"

" Yes, umm.. well usually your very..." She let herself trail off feeling herself getting redder by the second.

"Come Molly, we don't have all day. After all there is a murderer to catch up that hill."

"Chivalrous" She managed to spit out looking anywhere, but him. Why was she so embarrassed? She then decided she didn't care what he thought of her or her misunderstanding. Although it makes sense, why would he carry her bag? They were just friends. Yes friends could do that stuff, but most of the time friends carried their own things. "So I thought you would carry my bag for me." When she was finished, Sherlock took a couple seconds of silence and was in thought. Molly hoped he didn't think that she thought that this "trip" was something more then just a case. Because she didn't, well maybe for her it was a little more. It was getting to spend time with him one on one. Without all the dead bodies and slides between them. She then feared he was going to call the car back and demand a new partner for this case. Sherlock then snapped out of his train of thought, as Molly braced herself for the worse.

"Well I have my own bag to carry Molly. If you didn't want to carry a heavy bag, you should have packed lighter." Was all he said as he dropped her bag at her feet and headed up the hill, without a glance back. Molly was dumbstruck although she didn't know why, it was Sherlock. Of course he would be rude. That didn't make her any less angry at how he just acted! First he lets her stammer out an excuse and then rudely tells her to pack lighter! Molly bent down and picked up her bag rather forcefully. Her face fuming as she tugged her bag on and stomped after the consulting detective. Maybe paradise wasn't the right word to describe a few days alone with Sherlock!


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock reached their little camping area before Molly. It took one hour to walk up the hill. And in that one hour Sherlock kept fighting himself. He knew what he did was wrong. It wasn't nice to make Molly state why she had thought he would carry her bag, especially when he noticed how embarrassed she was. He couldn't help himself. He loved the way he could get her all flustered. The way her cheeks turn a pale sheet of pink and then all at once red. The little smile she got trying to hide her embarrassment. It was a selfish act. He was all too aware of, and that's what got him mad. Not because he was selfish, but because he loves how she gets like that. He feels things, he rather not feel.

So he did the Sherlock thing to do with a very harsh remark and looking like he doesn't care. Although he realized he did care, at ten minutes into climbing the hill. His big gifted brain, couldn't stop thinking about how he treated her and how sorry he was. He can't seem to keep his emotions in check with her. One minute he lets his cool facade slip and the next he is raging mad at himself. So in turn he gets mad with her. It's not her fault he feels things. Although it would make it easier if she was not interested romantically with him. This is exactly why he didn't want her to work on this case with him. They would be in far to close quarters for his liking. As he noticed Molly approaching, he slipped the bag off his shoulders and placed it on the ground as he knelt to retrieve the tents and sleeping bags.

Molly exhausted from the hour long hike up the hill, barely made it to their spot. She was still miffed at Sherlock, but knew in her heart she forgave him. Didn't she always? Molly huffed at the thought. She shouldn't be thinking about him right now. She was hot, sweaty, and tired. All she wanted was to get their tents set up and maybe something to eat. As she finally reached it, she let out a long sigh as she tore her bag off and let it land with a thud on the ground. She noticed Sherlock was already digging through his bag. She quietly crept up beside him looking down at him. She noticed there was a pillow tossed on the ground. Quite odd. Why would he pack a pillow in the bag? Also how did he get it to fit in their with two sleeping bags and two tents?

"Sherlock?" she asked very puzzled. He was too busy now ripping through the bag to notice. He was like a mad man throwing everything out, in his search. Molly bent down to his level and placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. As soon as her hand landed, on his shoulder he jerked away slightly from her touch. Turning his head to look at her. She quickly took her hand away, turning a bit pink. "Sorry, I know you don't like to be touched, you just didn't answer." She looked down at the ground. Sherlock puffed a breath out as he changed his position so he was sitting cross legged.

"It's quite alright Molly. There seems to be a problem with my bag." Molly looked up at him as he seemed confused as he gazed at his bag. She took a look at it. Besides all of the contents now haphazardly all on the ground. She found nothing wrong with it, seemed like a normal bag to her.

"I don't understand" she said looking back at him.

"There is only one tent. But I am positive I packed two. More then positive actually." Sherlock's gaze still fixed at the mess in front of him. He had such a look of bewilderment, at the whole ordeal. Molly couldn't help herself. She let out a little giggle, trying her best to stifle it. But the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to laugh. Sherlock looked at her laughing, his expression serious.

"What do you find so amusing?" Molly did her best to calm herself down. She was still a bit giggly, bit managed to speak none the less.

"You" Sherlock looked even more puzzled at her statement.

"I assure you I am not trying to be funny in anyway. There is literally only one tent." Molly stopped giggling as she realized he wasn't going to catch on until she told him.

"I am not laughing because I think your pretending there is only one tent. I am laughing because you seem to think it is the end of the world! So what there is only one tent. We can share a tent. You know they are big enough for more then one person." Sherlock blinked a couple of times processing all of this.

"Yes. I see we have no other choice. We can share a tent." he tried to smile to show he was okay with this. But it came out rather forced. He turned back and picked the tent up handing it to Molly. "Can you make the tent? I need to scour the area." Molly took the tent from him and they both stood up.

"Yeah." Molly nodded. She turned to go start right away, when his hand touched her arm. She whipped herself in his direction. Rather too quickly. Well it's not everyday Sherlock Holmes puts his hand on you to get your attention.

"Thank-you Molly for being understanding. And I am sorry for the tent mix up. I don't know how I could have made such a mistake."

"It's alright, really it is." she gave him a sweet smile to let him know she means it. He smiled back at her and strode away and out of sight. Molly went to work on the tent.

Once Sherlock knew he was out of Molly's range of hearing and seeing. He whipped out his phone. He knew exactly who to blame for this little incident. What did he really think Sherlock was so stupid. He had a mind palace for Christ's sake! Which Sherlock checked a total of five times to be exact about this. Every time it had him packing two tents. He dug out his mobile from his jacket's pocket. Of course a normal cell service wouldn't work out here, unless you were near the lodge. But Sherlock had the best service you could get. In case a situation arose anywhere at anytime. He hit the call button.

"What is it Sherlock?" Answered his brother. Sounding annoyed. Like usual.

"I think you know exactly what it is, Mycroft!" Sherlock spit out.

"I can assure you I don't."

"Oh, please you got your driver to take out one of my tents from my bag. So that I would be forced to share one with Miss Hooper."

"with whom? Sherlock I don't even know who-"

"Molly Hooper."

"Ah, yes the pathologist. I still didn't do it. Although I wish I had. It seems like you have gotten yourself in what they say a pickle?" Mycroft chuckled at that. Sherlock just huffed out his displeasure and annoyance at his brother. "Oh, Sherlock what's the big deal? Your little trip will only take a couple of days. All you have to do is share a tent. Are you that scared of a woman?"

"I am not scared of the opposite gender in any way."

"Then this should be easy for you. Piece of cake... speaking of I must be getting back to-"

"Mycroft, can't you send someone with another tent?"

"Well then what fun would that be? Surely you will thank me later, little brother."

"I can assure you I won't! Just do this for me."

"Why? I do lot's of things for you. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Unless.." Mycroft let himself trail off. Sherlock grew impatient with his brother.

"Unless what? Spit it out!"

"You fancy her" Sherlock scoffed at that.

"I do not fancy Molly Hooper. Or any other woman for that matter. As I said before-"

"Yes. You're married to your work. Though I can deduce that you do in fact fancy Miss Hooper. Why else be so unwilling to share a tent. Afraid you might lose your head and get caught up in her womanly charm?" Mycroft started laughing hysterically.

Sherlock had, had enough. He hung up on his brother. More angry then before. If Mycroft hadn't taken the tent out then who did? Shelrock couldn't think he was too fuming. All he could think of how he would be able to pull off being so close without saying or doing something stupid. After a couple of minutes of thinking about his situation with Molly. He had entirely forgotten about the case. The case! He would make sure he wrapped himself so up in this case, he won't have time to dwell on all of this. He decided that is what he was going to do. He took off without another moments notice, to as he told Molly earlier scour the camp.

Molly was all finished putting the tent up within ten minutes. She felt rather proud. It was a new record for her. When she was younger her father used to take her camping every summer. He taught her how to pitch a tent, build a fire, roast marshmallows perfectly, and tell the best scary stories. She smiled to herself at the memories. She turned away from the tent. To gather her bag and the contents of Sherlock's bag. Once she put her bag and his half empty bag inside the tent she went to pick up the things on the ground. There was a couple of dress shirts, a pair of briefs (which made Molly blush quite a bit), a sleeping bag, and a pillow. Molly took a double take at the pillow again, remembering, that she was going to ask Sherlock why he packed a pillow. It was unusual. Many sleeping bags came with little pillows. Even then if you wanted you could, buy one at any lodge. Well sometimes. Still very odd.

She decided to put away her questions for him when he returned. As she bent down to retrieve the pillow. Once everything was put inside the tent. Molly went out to double check her work, as she saw nothing else, she climbed inside. She went straight towards the sleeping bag that Sherlock already dug out earlier. Setting it up on one side of the tent. Feeling satisfied. She went towards his bag, but stopped when her hand was on the zipper. Maybe she shouldn't go inside his bag. It has his clothing and maybe some other personal items, he may not want her to see. It's not like he wouldn't come back soon. He had been gone for almost an hour now and it was getting dark. She also was getting very hungry. There was only so much a sandwich could do to ward off the hunger. She decided not to go in his bag, and that she should go looking for wood for a fire. She climbed out of the tent again almost banging her head into Sherlock's chest. She yelped as she fell backwards back into the tent. Landing with an "Oomph!" Sherlock came in laughing at her expanse. While she mocked hurt at his laughter. She couldn't help after a few seconds, but to laugh herself.

"Are you okay?" Sherlock asked after sitting down at the front of the tent. Molly sat up straighter and crossed her legs.

"Yes, I'm fine. Did you find anything out of the norm?"

"Unfortunately no. although I knew that I probably wouldn't, it was still good to have a look around. I am more familiar with this place now. Which will make it easier, when we interview the campers tomorrow."

"But if we tell them we're interviewing them wouldn't it be obvious?" Sherlock chuckled.

"No. we wouldn't actually tell them. We will pretend we are two campers that just want to chat and make friends while we're on our trip. Which shouldn't be hard at all, considering this camp has activities all day long for the campers to mingle. Also we should do the night time activities. Which they state are strictly for adults."

Molly's eyes widened at the thought of the adult night time activities bit. Hopefully they wouldn't be too adult. But if Sherlock didn't see anything to worry about she shouldn't either. Unless he doesn't fully understand 'adult time'. Molly gulped at the thought. She was probably worrying about nothing. Probably just adult meaning movies not meant for kids. She was so busy with her thoughts, she didn't hear Sherlock.

"Molly?, everything okay? You didn't fall too hard did you?" Sherlock smiled. And Molly gave a nervous laugh.

"No, sorry. I was just thinking. What were you saying?"

"I was just saying how well you built the tent. As well as apologizing for not helping."

"Oh, well thanks. And it's no big deal. I've been putting tents up since I was young. Oh I hope you don't mind, but I only set up one sleeping bag. Just because I didn't want to go into your bag." a bit of red was creeping up Molly's neck as she looked down. With thoughts of her having to pick his underwear up earlier.

"It's alright. Thank you for considering my privacy." with that Sherlock got on his hands and knees and started to crawl for his bag. While thinking of picking up the items earlier, reminded Molly of the pillow.

"Sherlock" He turned around at the sound of his name and sat back down.

"Yes?"

"Why did you pack a pillow?"

"A pillow?"

"Yeah, I noticed it earlier while you were frantically taking things out of your bag. I thought it was odd. Because sleeping bags come with their own little ones." Molly held up the one sleeping bag's pillow to show Sherlock.

"I am aware of that. But I did not pack a pillow." His faced scrunched up trying to make sense of this information.

"Yeah you did." Molly smiled and pointed towards the pillow in the corner. Sherlock followed her finger seeing a blue striped pillow sitting exactly where she said. Sherlock got up and grabbed the pillow. Turning it over in his hands.

"This is odd."

"Yeah. I thought so." Molly agreed.

"No … well yes odd to pack it. But odd because this is not my pillow. This is John's pillow."

"Well what would John's pillow be doing in your bag if you didn't pack it?"

"Very good question Molly, why indeed." Sherlock sat examining the pillow for a few minutes. Then as if he had a great idea, as quickly as he could went to his bag. Again like earlier he took things out rather quickly letting the contents hit wherever he threw them. Molly was so shocked at this all she could do was stare. Until Sherlock took the empty bag and threw it outside the tent in frustration. Molly had no idea why he would get so frustrated over a pillow.

"Sherlock, what did you find?" Sherlock didn't look towards her when he spoke just kept his head straight.

" It seems John Watson felt the need to do a little repacking."

At the Watson's flat John was pacing back and forth like a mad man. Ever since he returned from 221B Baker street he has been a restless soul. Mary couldn't take it anymore.

"For God's sake John sit down!" John stopped and looked at his tired wife.

"I can't! He's going to know it was me." Mary sighed at her husband.

"He isn't going to know it was you. He will probably think it was Mycroft. They always like playing tricks on each other. He will see this as some trick from him. He will not suspect a thing, I promise."

"See I don't think you can promise Mary. It's Sherlock bloody Holmes. He notices things for a living. And right now I bet you he is noticing that I fooled around with his packing. I mean for bloody sake I put my pillow, Mary in place of the missing items. My pillow!" Mary gave him a hard look at his shouting. She just got Isabelle to sleep, before that she was screaming her head off for half an hour.

"Shhhh! Be quiet will you. We do have a baby now, if you haven't noticed." Mary tried to put on a serious face, but it melted quickly as she giggled at how frazzled John is. John started to laugh along side his wife. Forgetting about how mad Sherlock will be at John's betrayal. He went and sat down by Mary's side. Giving her a sweet kiss.

"Is that what's different around here?" John said with the biggest grin on his face. Mary returned the grin.

"Don't worry John. Sherlock is a big boy. He can handle himself, I hope."

"I know. It's just he isn't-"

"Like everyone else I know. But he really likes Molly. He will never admit that, unless maybe something like this happens. Even now it's a long shot."

"Yeah, knowing Sherlock he will probably cock it up."

"Or won't" Mary smiled snuggling into john. The couple both closing their eyes to get some rest before another interruption from the baby.


	6. Chapter 6

Molly blinked twice. Did Sherlock just say John Watson? John his best friend. Molly couldn't help, but feel lost.

"I'm sorry, did you just say John?" Sherlock already seething mad at the situation, turned to Molly with a cold look.

"Yes! I already said that! Repeating things Molly isn't going to change anything! It just wastes time and breath!" Sherlock pounded on the tent with his fist in frustration. "UUUGGHHH!"

"Stop it! Your going to break the tent!" Sherlock wasn't listening to her. Typical. Molly no longer worrying about the sleeping bag, but getting mad at Sherlock's behavior. Stood up and grabbed his arm, to stop his punches. Sherlock though in his anger, didn't notice and with his force sent Molly flying back landing on her back. Sherlock stopped as he noticed what he's done. Molly's back stung a bit, but thankfully her landing was comforted by the sleeping bag. Molly noticed Sherlock's behavior changed as he ran to her side. His eyes wide with fear and regret. He was checking her frantically to see if he did any real harm to her. She only ever seen him like this when John was in danger and that night he came to her for help. Molly started to sit up, but found it hard with Sherlock poking and prodding her.

"Sherlock" His head whipped towards hers, his eyes looking into hers. He looked hurt... sad. Molly knew she had to tread carefully. She knew he didn't mean for that to happen. He didn't even realize she had grabbed his arm. He's just really strong.

"Molly I am so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen ... are you okay?" Sherlock's breathing was heavy as he spoke. He was ashamed of himself. He hurt her, and although she knew it was an accident, he couldn't forgive himself. He looked away from her gaze, turning his head to look at the part of the tent he had been pounding. The tent already back to normal as if nothing ever happened. Molly reached her hand out towards him, she let her hand linger in mid air for a brief moment. Wondering if she should touch him in a comforting way. He doesn't like to be touched, but she felt it's what he needed. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gently massaged it.

"Sherlock, look at me." Molly could feel tears sting the back of her eyes. Not because of what happened, but because of how much Sherlock hated himself for it. No matter if she wasn't badly hurt, or that he didn't mean too. She wanted him to know it was okay and she didn't blame him. He refused to look at her, he just kept staring at the tent's walls. "Please." Molly pleaded. She couldn't stand this anymore. She just wanted him to look at her.

He finally turned and looked right at her. His blue-green eyes burning into her brown ones. She could see the sadness in them. Molly couldn't help herself she moved her hand towards his cheek and let it land. She kept it there waiting for him to remove it. When he didn't and just kept her gaze she slowly moved her thumb back and forth. She wanted to speak to say something to him, to help him understand, but lost the words as their gaze never wavered from each other. Molly was very aware of how close their faces had become. Her breathing became more ragged, as she felt herself moving closer to him. She thought that he would move away, but he kept still, gaze always fixed on her. Without breaking anything she softly whispered.

"I forgive you" and with that she closed the rest of the distance between them and placed her lips on his. Giving him a closed mouth kiss, her eyes shut almost immediately at the contact. Her head was dizzy. She didn't remove her mouth only letting it rest on his. It felt like minutes had gone by when it was only seconds. To her surprise, he kissed her back. She was so startled, that she pulled back to look at him, his eyes were closed. They flew open though once he realized she had pulled away. Molly was surprised at her boldness, but didn't have anymore time to reflect on it at the moment.

When all she really wanted was his lips against her own. She dashed towards him, finding his lips again with hers. He didn't pull away, he just reacted. Soon the chaste kisses became more heated, as Molly gently nudged her tongue through his lips and found his. Molly let out a moan as their tongues clashed together. At her moan Sherlock growled into her mouth. Molly let her hands wander up to his dark curls as she wound and pulled her fingers through them. Their bodies grew closer together, as Sherlock pulled her towards him. Carefully he laid her down on the sleeping bag as they continued their heated kissing.

He lightly straddled her, so as to not crush her with his weight. He treated her as though she were some china doll. Molly couldn't care less, all she could think about was how good this felt. This was unlike any of her dreams, where her and Sherlock were kissing. This was better. Their bodies started to move together. Their breathing heavy as their tongues battle for dominance, along with their new added movements. Molly couldn't help, but feel even more pleasure when she felt Sherlock's bulge in his trousers pressing into her as his hips pushed against hers. Their bodies moved faster together, eliciting more moans from both. Sherlock soon drew his mouth away as he kissed Molly's Jaw, down to the middle of her throat. Where he sucked lightly on it. Molly threw her head back in pleasure, yanking more of his curls, which made Sherlock growl once more. Molly almost couldn't take it, her body was tuned to everything Sherlock's body was doing. As their bodies created more friction, and as Sherlock sucked on the sensitive part of her throat she moaned his name.

At the sound of his name, Sherlock's eyes snapped open as he became fully aware of what he was doing. He stopped what he was doing, his body becoming very stiff. He felt Molly stop underneath him. He felt her questioning gaze on him. He lifted himself off of her as quickly as he could. The tightness in his trousers making it unbearable to be in the tent with her. He couldn't look at her. Without an explanation he bolted from the tent and outside. He walked as far as he could. Until he found a spot far enough away, he sat down. Hoping that soon the throbbing in his nether regions would cease. His breathing still ragged from his previous actions with Molly. Sherlock closed his eyes trying to erase what he just did, but knowing what has been done is done.


	7. Chapter 7

Molly now alone in the tent, slowly sat up. She was still reeling about what happened. She couldn't believe she did that! Well maybe a little bit believable. But how the hell did she Molly Hooper have the guts to just snog Sherlock! It hasn't been an entire day yet and she bloody well snogged him. As well as some other … stuff. Molly was horrified at what she had done. He's never going to forgive her. She knew he sees her as a friend and nothing more. She is okay with that. No really she is.

"I Molly Hooper am okay with Sherlock being nothing more than my friend." Molly said out loud as if to convince someone. Who that someone was she didn't know. She ignored the thought in the back of her head that answered you. She didn't need convincing. She was fine. This incident that happened, was just some in the moment thing. That she couldn't forget. Molly smiled at the thought of what they did. How he made her feel and how she knew she made him feel-

she needed to stop!

Replaying it over isn't going to help any. At that moment Molly wished she could make a call to Mary. To talk to someone other then herself. Because let's face it, Molly knew she would never forget what happened. To Sherlock it was probably some bodily function that made him do what he did. It was entirely different reason why Molly did it. It hurt to come to that realization, that to Sherlock it was just hormones getting him to kiss her, touch her. While Molly did it out of love. She loves Sherlock, kissing him and being that close, that intimate with him. Was just an amazing feeling. But he didn't love her, it wasn't love that provoked him, it was lust.

That what it was lust for him, that's all it was. As Molly came to this conclusion her heart broke a bit. She tried to stop the flow of tears, but was unsuccessful. She allowed herself to cry as she hugged her legs to her chest. Molly's cries soon became uncontrollable sobs. She allowed herself to lay down facing towards the top of the tent, as she calmed herself down. Whatever happened has happened she can't change it. And no matter how much she wanted it to happen again, knew that it couldn't. Because if it did it would land her in the same place as she is in right now. She let out a puffed out a breath.

"I Molly Hooper am okay with Sherlock being nothing more than my friend... I have to be."

Once Sherlock cooled off from his affects with Molly. He once again got angry. He should not have allowed that to happen. But because it was Molly he let his guard down again! How could he be so stupid! They had only been tent partners for a few minutes and he ended on top of her. Like some horny school boy. Sherlock put his face in his hands trying to rid the memory of her. He couldn't stop remembering the way she taste, how she felt against him, how good it felt when she moaned his name.

"ENOUGH!" he yelled ruffling his hair as if that could help him forget.

Nothing could ever get him to forget what it was like to be that close to Molly Hooper, nothing. It was so much more better then in his mind palace. It was real, she was real. Not a ghost of his dreams. Her skin was soft under his touch. He liked how in control she was. How in control she is. That is Molly, his Molly. No not his. She can never be his. He won't allow it. To allow it meant he gave up on his idea, allowing sentiment to rule his heart and brain. To be hurt. Sentiment is for the weak minded, which Sherlock is not. Again John's face swam into his minds eye. Some where in the back of his head he was reminded it wasn't just John. But he pushed those thoughts away as he stood up and kicked the grass out of frustration. He has lived fine without a relationship for all of his life, he can live without one now. Of course now that he needed to be strong, his resolved weakened. Not only if he allowed his feelings for Molly to be known would it compromise his work, but he still hasn't had any clues as to where Moriarty is.

Also more importantly what he knows of the pathologist's place in Sherlock's heart. Yes, it's dangerous to be wth Molly even just talking. But he's sure that it wouldn't matter of he cut contact, that some how Moriarty already has all the information he needs. It's better Molly is with him. Only for her safety of course. He decided then and there that he will keep a closer eye on her from now on. That means he can't avoid her again, he was so wrapped up in his feelings when he avoided her he forgot Moriarty. This is exactly why he can't allow feelings. In the months that he stayed away, Moriarty could have done something. Stupid, stupid! He won't allow that to happen again. His feelings will no longer be an issue. Because Molly is just someone who he is friends with, and now he put her in danger. He owes her, that is all that is between them. What happened in the tent, was just in the moment. He felt bad for accidentally hurting her, she caught him in a fragile state. Which his body reacted to. Not his mind, nor heart.

Molly had somehow fallen asleep in the time that Sherlock was gone. She only woke up because she heard him come in. she desperately hoped that the sleep helped, get rid of the evidence that she had cried earlier. Though she wasn't sure how long she slept for exactly. She slowly sat herself up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Sherlock sat quietly at the opposite side of the tent. He seemed to be thinking. Probably in his bloody mind palace. After all he was working on a case. Molly decided to stretch a bit as she was a bit stiff, not used to sleeping on the ground. Even if there was some padding. She wondered if he would soon bring up what happened between them. There was apart of her that craved that talk, and another part of her that couldn't bear the thought.

She rubbed her temples a bit. She had a bit of a headache from her little crying fit. Soon enough her stomach growled. Reminding her that she still hadn't eaten a proper meal today. Well besides a sandwich, if that counts as anything. Molly had no idea what time it was, but knew it was pitch black outside. So it had to be at least nine o'clock. Which would mean that whatever food the campsite sold, would be closed for the night. Molly groaned at the thought. Which made Sherlock stir from his thoughts. As his now blue hues landed on her. He had his mouth parted as though he was going to speak, but then shut it. Oh god, Molly thought. He wants to have the talk. She internally panicked because she wasn't mentally ready for that yet. No, not at all. But to her relief and somewhat annoyance he just asked

"What is it?"

she ground her teeth while looking at him. Although just a second ago she didn't want to talk about it, her feelings have changed. She does in fact want to talk about it. But it seems he is just going to pretend that it didn't happen. Well she isn't going to give the sod, the satisfaction. If he is going to ignore what happened so will she. Well pretend anyway. Two can play at that game.

"I am just hungry. I guess the cafeteria up at the lodge would be closed by now."

"Your right it is closed. I walked by it before coming here." Molly groaned again as she dramatically fell back to her lying position.

"I suppose you didn't pack any food in that red bag of yours, did you?" Molly asked already knowing the answer.

"I don't eat while I'm on-"

"Cases. Yeah I know. I guess I'll have to suck it up until morning now." she said as she turned on her side facing Sherlock. Who had a bit of a smirk on his face. Why? She couldn't see how he could find this amusing.

"Or you could eat these bags of crisps I got from the machine." he held up two small bag of plain crisps. Molly's eyes popped open wide. She didn't care if it wasn't a proper meal or not. It was something to eat to hopefully fill the gap between now and morning. She sprung up eagerly ready to pounce for the bags. When Sherlock held them back. She fell onto her knees staring at him questioning his actions.

"Why won't you give them to me?" Molly thought he had brought them for her. To be nice for a change. God forbid he do something like that. Tosser.

"Well you didn't give me time to finish." Molly rolled her eyes. She waited for him to go on, when he didn't she became clearly annoyed with him.

"Go on then."

"Right, as you already know we have one sleeping bag."

"No shit Sherlock, I hadn't noticed." Molly decided to cross her arms. She couldn't help, but ogle the bag of crisps in his grasp. Sherlock puffed out an air of annoyance at her choice of words with him.

"Well that poses a problem as there are two of us. As it seems I have the crisps." he held up his barging tools. "While you have claimed the sleeping bag." Molly looked behind her at the sleeping bag. Claimed? She didn't have any patience for his games right now. She swung her head back at him.

"I'm just going on a hunch here and say you want the sleeping bag."

"Mmm yes." Molly steeled her gaze on him.

"You don't sleep on cases."

"Not usually no, I am rather tired. I was up this whole past week working on a nine. and if I am going to find our criminal in hiding. I will need some rest." Molly liked the fact that Sherlock thought she had some claim to the 'bed', just because she had laid it out? Slept on it? Who knows. But she also knew it was cold at night. She already felt the chill. As well as the fact that she would have to sleep on nothing, but the lining of the tent. Which did nothing to help one sleep. The ground was lumpy and her back would kill her for sure in the morning. That was if she did fall asleep. Molly gulped looking at the crisps once more. Knowing that her hunger would answer for her.

"Alright. You win you can have the sleeping bag tonight." Sherlock smiled and tossed the bags at her. As soon as it landed near her she picked one up and ripped it open. Popping a few into her mouth at once. Molly had one bag gone in two minutes flat. She soon moved onto the next bag. But stopped her haste when she noticed Sherlock watching her. She became self conscious and took fewer crisps at a time, and chewed slower.

"Don't slow down on my account." Molly's eyes widened.

"Who said I was doing it for you."

"Well the fact that as soon as I tossed them to you, you couldn't hold back any longer. You were in a state of hunger. Making you want to eat as much as you could as fast as you could. Not to worry everyone does it, when they're starving. As they say"

"I wasn't starving."

"Mmmm, yes you were. Molly the only thing you have eaten today was a sandwich. I know that because when I went to see you at the morgue earlier you kept looking at the clock eager to be your lunch. But something made you skip it. You also must have been running late when you got home since you didn't eat before coming to my place." Molly blushed a bit. At the fact that he thought she was running late. When in fact she didn't eat before was because of her excitement. Same thing with lunch, she was too happy to be bothered."Thus making you starving, as they say. When really your just very hungry. Because in order to starve, one must be without food for at least a couple of days."

"Right." Molly agreed. Although she could care less what the proper use of the word was intended for. As she soon finished the second bag she licked each finger clean of the salt. Now that her hunger had subsided her thirst was in full flare. Molly just couldn't get a break today. But before she could say anything Sherlock produced a bottle of water from his coat pocket and rolled it to her. She opened it and took a long thankful swig.

"Thanks." although she didn't know why she was thanking him. When he did just make her give up the sleeping bag for the crisps and this was probably just apart of the deal.

"No problem. Now since it is really late, we should get some proper sleep. We need to be up at sunset. In order to start our hunt." Molly gawked at him. Sunset? Was he serious? "Oh I am quite serious Molly. We must start as early as we can. It also wouldn't hurt for you to get a look around to get familiar with the grounds as well."

Sherlock began taking his shoes and coat off. He wasn't going to get undressed in front of her was he? Especially after their little make out session that happened, and he was ignoring. She couldn't help but stare, she told herself she should look away. Give him some changing privacy when very soon she would wish the same. But he didn't say anything, as he reached for his silk pajamas. As he started unbuttoning his shirt. She blushed bright red and quickly turned around facing the other way.

As she heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he got undressed, she kept thinking of how when they were moving together their clothes rustled as well. As she heard the zipper of his trousers. She couldn't take it anymore, so she had decided to go for her bag and find her pajamas as well. So that her mind wouldn't go to that place. She took out her bright blue flannel pajamas, which was the warmest pair she packed. Since she wouldn't have any coverage during the night. And started to undress, but stopped when she wasn't sure if Sherlock was looking or not.

"I will look away, don't worry Molly." As she turned to the sound of his voice she noticed he now was dressed in red silk pj's with his back facing the other way. She wanted to laugh at the fact that he brought silk to camping. But quickly fought it down as she took her shirt off. She hesitated at her bra. As she hated sleeping with it on, but felt weird if it was off with Sherlock around. She decided it would be dark anyway. And undid her bra. Pulling on her top. Then standing to strip her trousers off, and quickly finishing by putting her bottoms on.

"Okay I'm dressed now." Sherlock spun around and stood up making his way towards the sleeping bag which Molly stood on. He stopped right in front of her. She gave him a puzzling look.

"Well when sleeping one must not have another person standing on their sleeping bag." Molly looked down and stepped off.

"Sorry." Molly took a few paces wanting not to sleep to close to him, her mind might wander. Since she didn't have a blanket or a pillow she sat down on her spot. Sherlock went and grabbed her bag and handed it to her.

"It's for your head. Like a pillow." She placed it where her head would be and gave him a small smile. She refused to give a big one, just because she was in for a long night. All because he wanted the sleeping bag and used food against her when she was hungry. It was actually quite a rotten thing to do. She laid on her side facing Sherlock. Watching him getting in the sleeping bag, all comfy and warm. While she had to curl up because it was freezing cold. She decided she won't let this consume her. So she closed her eyes, hoping she could fall asleep soon.

"Molly"

Molly let out a sharp breath and put an annoyed look on her face.

"Could you turn the lamp off, your closer to it. It's beside my bag." Molly angrily got up and crawled towards the lamp flicking it off. Returning to her spot on the floor, she turned the other way to lay down.

"Thank-you"

"Hmm." was all she replied with. She almost kind of felt bad for acting like a spoiled child. Almost.

Molly was sure it had been at least a couple of hours since they first tried to get some sleep. She had no luck at all. She couldn't get the least bit comfy. As the ground was really hard and not to mention cold. Which also leads to the next reason why she couldn't fall asleep. She was ice cold. She couldn't stop shivering. She curled herself up so tight in a ball, but that didn't really do much. By this point she was just so tired and cold she wanted to cry. When she thought of Sherlock over there sleeping peacefully in a nice warm sleeping bag. She wanted to throw something at him. A tired Molly is a irritable Molly after all. And for the hundredth time that night she turned over. Facing Sherlock, which made her let out a sigh. She was startled when Sherlock's deep voice interrupted her angry thoughts towards him.

"Are you ever going to sleep Molly?" Molly's mouth dropped wide open. How dare he ask her that! It was cold and the ground was hard. And now he just expects her to sleep when he wants her to sleep?!

"Well I would love to Sherlock, really I would, but if you hadn't noticed in your cozy little bed. It is freezing cold, which I don't think I need to remind you that I don't have a blanket to cover up with. Also the ground is extremely uncomfortable."

"Are you done?"

"UUUGGHHH!" Molly turned over yet again facing the opposite direction. She was cold and tired, she didn't need to put up with his ridicule as well. Molly was beyond tired and had had it. She couldn't take it anymore. She just let herself cry a little. She was overtired. All she wanted was to be able to sleep.

"Why... why are you crying?" Sherlock asked a little more sincere, then his last comments.

"Because Sherlock, I am exhausted, and as I have told you cold. I don't know what else to do." Molly sniffled after that. Wiping at her eyes, as the tears stopped. She just needed to get some sleep. This day was a roller coaster ride of emotions for her and all she wanted was a rest from it. Though she doubted that the other days would be any different with Sherlock.

She could hear the sleeping bag zipper and a whole lot of rustling. Then footsteps, until she heard the flick of the lamp. She opened her tear stained eyes as she blinked at the sudden burst of light. Sherlock didn't say anything to her as she sat up watching him. He grabbed his dressing gown and coat from the floor and carried it towards the sleeping bag. Oh it seems he could be more of an ass. Molly thought, as he dropped them on top.

Apparently he needs more warmth. Well she had none. But to Molly's surprise he didn't get back in the bag at all. He was actually undoing the zipper entirely. Laying flat out, making a big bed? Molly went to roll her eyes. Of course he needed more room. So he laid the sleeping bag out for himself and grabbed his coat and dressing gown to use as covers to keep warm. Again surprising her he looked over at her.

"I am sorry. I was selfish. I didn't think about how it would affect you. We can sleep on this together."

Sherlock went over to the lamp and picked it up bringing it over to his newly made bed for two. Molly sat still in place from shock. Did he just do something nice? Without it benefiting him at all? If Molly weren't so tired she might have smiled. That he would do something like that, especially for her. As well as the thought about what they did on the sleeping bag. But as it became clear that wasn't going to be an issue as clearly it was something that wouldn't be brought up, probably ever. She was snapped out of her thoughts when she noticed him looking at her waiting for her to get into the bed.

She stood up and walked rather slowly all the while looking at Sherlock. Wondering if he might say never mind, it was all for fun because I'm bored. But that didn't happen. He allowed her to pick which side she wanted. She decided to sleep on right side. It was more closed in. He placed the lamp down beside his side of the bed. He took his coat from the floor and placed it carefully over Molly, making sure every inch of her was covered.

"You can have my coat it should be warmer, and considering how big it is should have no problem." She sat up, watching him get in beside her. He had his dressing gown in his hands and splayed it on top of him. It obviously didn't cover all of him, as his coat did her. He let his arms bare, so his feet were covered.

"Won't you be cold?" she couldn't help asking.

"I'll be fine Molly. Besides we are close so we should have heat from each others bodies." Molly's cheeks turned a shade of pink at that. But it's not like they have a choice. Well they did, but didn't? Never mind. Molly laid down facing the other way as did Sherlock. She kept her eyes open until the light turned off and she soon fell into a rather peaceful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock awoke to the sound of a very loud chirping bird. Sherlock groaned a bit at that. If the birds were singing it would mean that it was around six in the morning. Although Sherlock had suggested they be up at sunrise, he felt that due to last night they needed to sleep. Apparently the birds thought differently. Sherlock trying to become fully awake, by rubbing at his very tired eyes. He estimated in his head that he had probably only slept for four hours. Which for him was not good. Because he always skips sleep on cases, he always needs a full eight hours when he sleeps.

He sighed knowing that he is going to feel very tired today, and is probably going to have to sleep again tonight. Instead of working on the case all the way through. Once he was done with his thoughts he became fully aware of the hot breath tickling his neck. He then realized the feel of Molly's body up against him and as he dared to gaze down to see her arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. Sherlock's body became attentive to his situation. He rolled his eyes at that and tried to think of anything else, but Molly spooning him in her sleep. He knew the best solution was for him to try to get away and up from this damn make shift bed that he had to share with Molly. No thanks to John.

At that moment his anger came back with a passion, that thankfully helped get rid of his body's urges. All he could think of was that he wanted to get up and call John. He smirked at himself knowing full well that the former army doctor probably hadn't had a good night sleep. If he were to wake him would interrupt the only sleep he was allowed. Sherlock now on a mission to call John for pay back was in full flare. The only problem was one sleeping pathologist, who he didn't want to wake. Considering it was his fault in the first place why they didn't get the sleep they needed. He slowly tried to roll away from her grasp, but had no luck, as her grip was really tight. He knew Molly had strength in character as well as in slapping. But never in a million years would he thought she might actually be physically strong, especially in her sleep.

He decided he would try to observe her more for this. He liked the idea that she was not only intelligent, emotionally strong, loyal, brave, beautiful...

Once he caught up with his mind at the stupid list he was making he decided to rip the band aid off and just carefully move her arm and hopefully she doesn't wake up. As he slowly took her hand in his, her hand jerked at the contact and her hold loosened on him. He stopped, frozen in place thinking he had woke her up. But as the seconds went, by and all he could hear was her steady breath pricking his neck. He began to slowly move her arm up and off of him, until he laid it gently across her stomach. He swiftly rolled away from his position on the sleeping bag, in case Molly again takes hold of him. He quickly stood up and retrieved his phone. Before leaving the tent he couldn't help, but stare at Molly sleeping peacefully. She looked rather lovely when she slept. He smiled at the sight, but quickly scolded himself yet again and sprinted out of the tent as fast and quietly as he could.

Back in London John had just gotten back to sleep. He allowed Mary to sleep the whole night. Considering she had just had their daughter 3 days ago. He was awake most of the night. It seems that baby Isabelle wanted to pull an all nighter crying every chance she got. John was ridding on the three hours he got the previous night. He barely made it through the night. Though admittedly he did have his eyes closed for one minute while holding Izzy last night, but that's not something he was willing to share with his wife.

When John's phone rang he had, had precisely twenty-five minutes of sleep. Of course john now a new father, was alert to any sound. Shot right up. His sleep ridden brain didn't quite connect baby crying to phone ringing. He dashed towards the bassinet, and frowned when he saw his daughter sleeping peacefully. Then he registered it was his phone. He very annoyingly stomped ever so lightly as to not wake the baby, but wanting to somehow show his aggravation to the phone. He took a look at the call display. His face turned bright red, as he saw it was his best friend Sherlock calling.

Why in the bloody hell was he calling at this hour, especially when he is fully aware of their situation. He decided he wasn't going to answer, Sherlock could wait. As the ringing stopped, John walked over to the sofa and plopped down. He waited for a few seconds to see if it would ring again. He smiled when it didn't and he laid down. He had to get himself comfy, then just as he closed his eyes the phone rang again. John's eyes shot straight open, anger clearly written on his face. He knew his friend wouldn't stop until he answered. So John unwillingly got up and grabbed the phone. He backed away a bit as to not be so close to the baby, he doesn't want to wake her up with his talking. John gritted his teeth and answered.

"Hello?"

"John, is it a bad time right now?" Sherlock mocked ignorance.

"Well I dunnno Sherlock, it's bloody six thirty in the morning and I haven't had one ounce of sleep in almost two days! So yes, yes it is most certainly a bad time!" John yelled at a whisper.

"Well good then." Sherlock sounded very pleased with himself.

"Good?" John scoffed

"Yes, you see I wanted to teach you a lesson about messing with one's packing." John didn't fully connect with what he was saying. Messing with one's packing? It took a couple of beats, but it finally dawned on him. The tent and sleeping bag! John thought maybe he should try to deny it, but his guilty side took over along with his sensible side knowing Sherlock. Pretending wouldn't work.

"That's what all this is about?" John rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. Wandering to the bathroom, and taking a seat on the closed toilet.

"Of course! How could you John, you were the last one I would have thought to want to sabotage me in this way."

"Sabotage?"

"Yes, John. Let's not pretend anymore, I know full well you know how I feel about Molly. It all makes sense now. You wanting me to take Molly instead of you. I should have realized it then and there. You and I both know Mary would have allowed you to accompany me on this case, it didn't matter if she had just had a baby two days ago. You knowing that decided to distract me with betting me. Knowing I can't stand not to win at anything. So when I left the flat in a hurry to win this little game you had made up, everything going nice and smoothly for you that is. You went and took the tent and sleeping bag out. Although I didn't think you would be clever enough to deduce that if you had stuffed a pillow in my bag, I wouldn't notice What you did until Molly and I had arrived. Because I wouldn't double check my packing. Thus making it all too easy for you to do this. Although you made a huge mistake in stuffing your old pillow in. It was Rather a stupid move, that even a monkey wouldn't make. And I so stupidly your willing fool!" Sherlock quickly said. Just like all deductions. John sighed, he couldn't help feel sorry for his friend. He also felt incredibly guilty, as he did know how Sherlock felt about Molly. It was rather mean to place him in this sort of situation.

"Well it wasn't my idea, it was Mary's. I just went along with it because of how much of a git your being by not telling Molly your feelings." Sherlock ignored John's sympathy about his feelings.

"Ah, that explains the brains of this operation." John knowing Sherlock couldn't see him, but felt the need to do it. Steeled his eyes at the bathroom wall at his harsh remark. He was just upset with whatever it was he was feeling.

"Sherlock I am sorry about this, really I am. But it was getting to be unbearable at your outbursts toward how you feel about her."

"John, how many times do I have to tell you I am married-"

"To your work. Yes we all know. You tell us a dozen times a week."

"Do I say it that much that everyone just knows what I'm going to say?"

"Yes, you do. Never mind that, just deal with how you feel Sherlock, tell her."

"I can't John. Sentiment can not rule my head. I won't allow it."

"Sentiment?! Sherlock look around, you allow sentiment! You may deny it, but you do. This is just another little denial tactic on your part. Look at all the people you care about, that is sentiment. And what will denying your feelings towards Molly do if let's say she does get hurt?"

"No John, I will not think like that."

"Well let's pretend. Molly is hurt very badly. If your not in a relationship with her, does that mean you don't want to help her? That you don't care she's hurt?"

"No! Of course I would care! I would do all I could to help her John!"

"Then your denial isn't working Sherlock. You don't want sentiment to rule your head, but it already has. Just because you refuse to give into a relationship with her, doesn't mean that if something were to happen you wouldn't help her. Because you have sentiment Sherlock, you have it for your friends and for Molly." John was trying desperately to help his best friend understand. He knew Sherlock although a genius, could be daft sometimes. Especially when it comes to this. John was waiting for a sarcastic rebuttal to his words, but he was surprised when Sherlock's heart breaking answer came through the phone.

"I'm no good John, not for her. She deserves so much better. I would put her in too much pain and heartbreak. She wouldn't be safe with me, I have enemies that want to hurt me. If I gave in John that is where they would go, to her... That's where he would go." Sherlock hung up. John felt a sickening feeling as he understood who Sherlock was referring to.

Molly woke up when she turned over and face planted into the empty spot where Sherlock had slept. She rubbed at her face for a moment more out of shock then anything. She always was a restless sleeper. Thank god Sherlock wasn't here for her to be close too. That would have been very embarrassing, her head touching his. Then him waking up probably jumping away as fast as he can. Just like yesterday, when they were kissing. No she wouldn't think of that. She has moved on. Besides she needs her head straight she promised Sherlock she would help with this case and that is what she is going to do. Molly sat up determined to put yesterdays incident behind her.

She looked around trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. She wondered how long he had been gone for. Maybe he decided that he wanted to do this alone now? Or maybe he had to go to the loo. Speaking of Molly felt the need to go there herself. She didn't want to go up to the lodge in her pajamas, but she didn't want Sherlock to come in when she was dressing either. She had no idea when he would be getting back. Maybe if she was quick about it.

At that she hopped up, and went inside her bag to get her clothes. She was in a hurry to get dressed so she quickly chucked off her top and bottoms, letting them land. As her semi naked body felt the cool morning air, her need to pee became increasing. She couldn't take it! She knew that it would be at least a five minute walk to the lodge. So she hurried even more. She put her bra on and pulled her pink cotton t-shirt on after. She tore off her dirty knickers and threw them on the other side of the tent not really thinking straight. All she could think about was relieving herself. She put a clean pair on and then put her khaki shorts on. She always wore them when she went camping. Her father always said when camping one, must dress for it. She slipped her shoes on and ran as fast as she could from the tent to the loo.

When Molly came back she was feeling much better. Although she was sad that she didn't remember to bring her wallet for some breakfast. She was famished from the previous day. She will have to make another trip up there to get some food. When she stepped into the tent, she noticed Sherlock sitting on his side of their bed. She really shouldn't call it their, the... the bed. He was fully dressed in normal clothes? She thought he would have dressed as he always did. Considering yesterday he wore his usual dress. She rather liked the look of normal on him. He was in a light blue polo shirt and dark jeans, with a pair of black trainers. She also couldn't help the smell of bacon? Yes it was definitely bacon. Her stomach started to rumble at the aroma. Sherlock looked up at Molly standing there, since she hadn't moved since she got back.

"Ah, Molly there you are. I brought you breakfast." He jerked his head to the side at her side of the bed seeing the plate had been laid beside it. It was a full plate of bacon, eggs, sausages, and beans. Molly was so hungry she made for it in a haste. She couldn't wait to have real food down her gullet. She hadn't forgotten that Sherlock was staring at her though. So she ate slowly, she also noticed a nice cup of orange juice as well. Once she had a couple bites to eat she turned towards Sherlock with a bright smile.

"Thank-you, you didn't have to bring me breakfast."

"I know. But what I did last night wasn't nice. So I thought I would make up for it by bringing you breakfast in bed." He gave her a grin as she started to feel the rush of heat creep up on her neck. She quickly fought it though and returned to her meal. "Where did you go anyway?" She looked up wondering why he would care.

"Well you know, I just had to go to the loo was all." She nervously answered. Although she shouldn't feel nervous about telling him she had to go to the loo. Everyone does. "What about you? Where did you go off to this morning?" She looked at him as she shoved a forkful of beans into her mouth.

"I had a phone call I needed to make to one John Watson." Molly thought for a few seconds realizing that he had done this early in the morning.

"Sherlock! How awful of you. John and Mary have a baby and need their sleep. No matter what John did, he didn't deserve that." Molly scolded. Sherlock looked down a bit at being told off by Molly, knowing full well what he did was nasty. He quickly recovered and changed the subject.

"Do hurry Molly, we must get a move on. We have already delayed this long enough. It is now reaching eight o'clock and we must be at the lodge for the 'Get to know the campers' activity." Sherlock mocked gleefulness at the name of the activity. As Molly finished the last bits of her meal, Sherlock rose and went to his pile of clothes that he didn't bother to put back in his bag. Molly not watching him was startled when he said her name.

"Molly?" She put her plate down and faced his way, but his back was still facing her. He was clearly holding something in his hand.

"Hmmm?" Sherlock slowly turned around and to Molly's horror was holding her bright pink knickers.

"I don't remember packing these." He held them up to her as her face was now red as a tomato. She sprung up and yanked them from his grasp. Wondering how they could have gotten there. When yes, she remembered now. They must have landed on his pile of clothes when she threw them, when she was in a hurry earlier. She quickly stuffed them in her bag. Hoping and praying that he wouldn't want to discuss this further.

"Molly?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and faced him afraid of what he might say.

"Why do your knickers say that your... naughty?" That was it, she didn't think her face could get even redder, but she was proved wrong. Molly had bought these knickers when she was with Tom, wanting him to think she was more then what she appeared to be. Also she kind of liked cute and sexy knickers. She looked to Sherlock who seemed genuinely wanting to know. Of course leave it to him to not know what it's implying and think it's suppose to be exactly what she was. Which was the opposite.

"Umm.. well, it... umm..." She really didn't want to explain this to him of all people. Why couldn't he just let this go? For once in his life couldn't he know something that everyone else does. She struggled to find a better way to put this, but couldn't. She knew he wouldn't change the subject until she told him.

"It means that I am not nice." Not what she intended to say, she meant to tell him the implication of it, but froze.

"I know what naughty means Molly. I want to know why your knickers are saying your naughty, when in fact you are quite the opposite." Molly groaned.

"Because it's implying that I'm not nice in bed, Sherlock." She couldn't look at him in the eye, she suddenly found the bottom of her shirt very fascinating.

"Ahhh, I see." Was all he said, but he kept staring at her. She felt very uncomfortable. Then remembered that they had to get to that activity. Which she thanked the heavens for.

"Well we better get going, or we will be late to that activity!" Molly said with too much enthusiasm and she bolted from the tent making way for the lodge.


	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock and Molly had arrived right on time. They stood in the back as the leader addressed the crowd.

"Hello everyone and welcome to the Get To Know The Campers activity!" he said this all too cheery to be believable. "Now the goal of this activity is to simply mingle and get to know one another and who knows you might just make a few friends this morning." Molly looked up at Sherlock as he groaned very loudly. She elbowed him and gave him a look. He rolled his eyes and she couldn't help but smile as she did the same. It was going to be difficult for him to act normal when they did these activities.

"Now there are free refreshments on the table just right outside of my office. There is tea, coffee, and water. Now what about we go and mingle!" the crowd clapped, Molly joined in and Sherlock just sighed at the task at hand. The crowd dispersed leaving Sherlock and Molly the only ones standing in the middle.

"Molly can you please go and get me a coffee. I think I am going to need it." Molly gave Sherlock a sympathetic look and without another word left to fetch his much needed caffeine. Of course there was a little bit of a line. Which made her sigh. Anything free and people jump at the offer.

Sherlock was busy scanning the crowd, trying to find anyone who could be suspicious, or worth his time to investigate. He was so tuned into what he was doing he didn't even notice a familiar irritating face. Until they spoke of course.

"Sherlock!" Sherlock furrowed his brows. Well that sounds like...

"Anderson?! Aren't you suppose to be on holiday?" Sherlock spun around on his heel.

"I am. I love camping, really let's me think." Anderson smiling wide at Sherlock. "What are you doing here Sherlock? I didn't think you enjoyed camping."

"I don't, but I am here on a case. Which I hope you don't mention to anyone." Sherlock gave the man a warning look. He didn't like the fact that he had to trust Anderson of all people.

"You don't have to worry. My lips are sealed." He then did the action of sealing his lips and throwing away the key. Which made Sherlock pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation. The last thing he needed was this. He should be deducing people, not entertaining some dimwit. "So where's John?"

Sherlock snapped back to reality as he just remembered Molly! Anderson can not know he is here with Molly. Although Sherlock likes the theory his little fan had come up with involving Molly, he didn't want to give him any ideas to rant and rave about on his little blog or fan club. He made a quick glance towards the refreshment table seeing Molly was the next person to get the coffee. She would be over here in less then two minutes! Sherlock tried coming up with ways to try to dodge the whole John isn't here Molly is. But every one of his ideas were huge and complicated. Isn't everything about Molly like that? He thought.

He gave a huff as Molly strode over with cup in hand. Sherlock could swear this all happened in beautiful, blissful slow motion. As a little boy who looked to be about eight was up to no good. He decided that Molly would be his victim of choice, which Sherlock thanked whatever made that happen. The little boy stuck his foot out, with the biggest smirk he could muster. Of course Molly unsuspecting walked with her head held up gazing at that moment at Sherlock as she was only a few feet away. She gave him a smile and held up the coffee in front of her face. Which was a big mistake. Had she left it at her mid section it wouldn't have easily spilled down her shirt, when she fell. She also didn't have the best grip on it considering the cup spilled in her direction other then the other way. As Molly was hitting the ground Sherlock came up with a way to get Anderson out of there.

"Anderson I just remembered. I lost my scarf somewhere on the trails. Would you mind fetching it for me? As you see I am very busy at the moment." Anderson smiled at the thought that Sherlock would ask him to go and get something for him.

"I guess I could. But why-"

"Good, well you better go this way retrace my steps" Sherlock pushed Anderson in the opposite direction of Molly now on the ground with spectators all around. Covering Anderson's view of the woman. Sherlock waited until Anderson had went into the bushy trail. Then spun around on his heel running towards Molly. Who was now sitting up. He couldn't help, but notice the soaking wet coffee stain on her chest area. Which he swore he only looked at for a second, maybe two.

"Molly are you okay? What happened?" Sherlock pretended he didn't know what had made her take quite a spill. Since his focus was with Anderson. Molly looked up at him, looking a bit embarrassed at the spectacle she had made. Now it seems most of the campers were surrounding her. At that moment the boys mother came barreling through the crowd.

"I am terribly sorry about my son." To her credit she did look genuinely troubled by her son's actions. Sherlock wanted to roll his eyes, but smiled at her apology. The mother then took her son's arm and yanked him towards Molly. With thankfully help from Sherlock who took her hands and helped her up. He still had his hands in hers, not realizing he began to rub small circles to help comfort her. She had become some what of a self-conscious Molly.

"Now what do you say to this woman?" Everyone's attention was on this little boy. Which Sherlock could see is what he wanted. It seems he doesn't get enough attention at home so he acts out in big ways to get noticed. If Sherlock had any sort of sympathy towards strangers he might have felt pity for the child. He looked up at Molly and gave a great big smirk. Sherlock wanted to wipe it right off. It took a whole minute for him to say something.

"Your nipples are showing!" He laughed and pointed to Molly's chest. Which indeed had two nipples poking out. The little boy ran away, with the mother following after. Molly's face had gone pure red as everyone had heard what he said and pointed to. Sherlock noticed some of the men looking. That made him a bit upset. So he stood in front of Molly. Taking one of his arms behind him holding onto her arm.

"There's nothing else to see here. So I suggest you look elsewhere!" Sherlock said not so kindly. At that everyone seemed like they remembered they had something to do. Once everyone was gone, Sherlock looked to Molly. She wouldn't meet his eyes. But he could tell she was close to crying. He knew that this is embarrassing for her, but he didn't understand why she would cry. He wanted to comfort her, to let her know it was fine. So he took his arms out and placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, like he did earlier he took his thumb and rubbed small circles.

She gave him a weak smile, to show her appreciation He smiled back trying to get her to be back to normal. He didn't like seeing her like this, insecure. When to him she had nothing to be insecure about, nothing at all. Molly abruptly pulled away and walked away fast in the direction of their tent. At that moment Sherlock regretted his happiness towards the diversion. As an older lady about Mrs. Hudson's age came up to him.

"Is your girlfriend alright?" Sherlock turned towards the lady, he didn't correct her. He knew that he needed to go after Molly. So in Sherlock fashion he just quickly strode towards the direction Molly took.

Molly couldn't stop the tears from over flowing. As soon as she was away from everyone. She is being foolish, she knows. But she couldn't help it. This was beyond embarrassing. She could handle falling and spilling coffee on her. Which burned like hell, even now her skin is still stinging from it. It was the little boy pointing out her nipples. Especially in front of all those people and Sherlock. Even he knew it was bad! he had pitied her even. She felt like she was back in high school, and Sarah Mann was the little boy. Molly wiped her eyes as she neared the tent. She quickly dove in and instead of taking off her soaking wet shirt she laid down and crawled into a ball. She was already pathetic anyway she thought, as more tears stung her vision.

Maybe she was just over tired? She didn't know. It could be all of those things rolled into one, for her to be so emotional about this. After a couple of minutes alone, she heard the zipper to the tent being opened and closed again. She didn't feel like looking up and see Sherlock try his hand at sympathy. Although her heart did ache for her to give in just his time. He didn't say anything right away, didn't even come near the bed. He just stood at the entrance. Molly could feel his gaze on her, even though her eyes were shut tight. It felt like ages had passed when he spoke.

"Molly, you should change your shirt." He said softly. Molly rarely heard him speak soft. The only other times she heard him speak this way. Was that day in the lab and in that building when he found out about Tom. Molly decided to sit up. She had a head ache again. This trip was turning out to be the worst one of her life. Sherlock held a bottle of water out to her.

"We should put cold water on the area the coffee spilled. To prevent anything and ease the pain."

That made Molly aware of the stinging that throbbed from that area. Although the coffee had most definitely cooled, her skin still hurt. Sherlock left to go to his pile of clothes and rummaged through it until he found a towel. He quickly picked it up and he went and sat down in front of Molly. She really didn't want to take her shirt off with him looking. And had she not been too tired, she might have had the energy to have a bit of red to her cheeks. She didn't move to take her shirt off either though. Sherlock waited for her to do this, so he could apply the cool water to her skin.

When it became clear she wasn't going to, he moved closer which got her heart to beat a bit faster and her breath hitch a bit. He reached his hands out towards the bottom of her shirt. Before placing them on it, he looked up to her for consent. At that point Molly wanted him to take it off. Not for anything other then she wanted him to take care of her. Instead of the other way around. She was tired, embarrassed, and hurt, she was the one who wanted to be saved. In whatever small way she could. She nodded to let him know it was okay. Sherlock carefully pulled her shirt up and off of her torso, once off he threw it to the side.

Instead of immediately tending to her very red chest, he stared at her semi-naked top half of her body. Molly had the urge to wrap her arms around herself, to obscure his view, but she didn't. Instead she gave a fake cough trying to get his attention back to the situation at hand. He looked up to her face, not seeming the least bit nerved. He grabbed the water bottle that was in Molly's hand. He carefully poured water onto his towel, until there was enough water on it. He very gently, so as not to startle her, laid the wet part of the towel to her red skin. Molly instantly felt better, with the cool taking the sting off a bit. She let out a breath she didn't know she had.

She waited for him to move the towel, lower to the rest of the burn, when he didn't she gave him questioning eyes. She knew she didn't have to wonder why. Considering the rest of the scolding was her breast area. Luckily her bra had helped with shielding the burn a bit, which by now had stopped hurting. So it was only her cleavage that stung and needed tending to. Sherlock always was so uncomfortable with this sort of thing. Though she doesn't know why, especially now after what they did together. They did much more intimate things, then him helping her with her stinging skin. Even if it is the top of her breasts.

She didn't know why she did what she did next. She felt compelled to do it without really thinking. She placed a steady hand on top of Sherlock's which seemed frozen in place at the moment. She looked up at him looking into his eyes, trying to give him reassurance. He held her gaze as she slowly guided his hand lower until it hit the spot that needed comfort. Molly closed her eyes as relief came quickly. Just as fast as they were shut Molly's eyes flew open when she remembered exactly where her hand was. More importantly were his hand was. She could see the strain on his face, showing how aware he was of the situation. She felt bad for once again putting him in a situation that wasn't his area.

"I can take it from here, thank-you." Molly said seeing the relief come straight to his face. She removed her hand from his as he removed his from her skin. He quickly put more water on the towel and handed it to Molly. She soon placed the towel on her skin, letting the cool water soothe it.

"It shouldn't be too long for the stinging to cease entirely." Sherlock said to help reassure her. He gave a quick smile. As they heard footsteps outside of their tent. They both looked at one another in question and then turned their gazes towards the front of the tent.

"Yoo hoo! Sorry to bother you dears, but I thought you might want to know that they changed the time for tonight's activity." Came an elderly woman's voice. Molly still puzzled at why she was there in the first place. Or how she knew they wouldn't know? Sherlock's face showed some form of recognizing towards the voice. As he leaped up from his spot and opened the opening a little. So that the woman wouldn't be able to see Molly in her bra. That didn't stop Molly from taking extra precautions and unfolding the towel to cover the top of her body.

"That was very kind of you." Sherlock said to the woman in what Molly believed was his fake kindness.

"Well it's the least I could do after what happened to your poor girlfriend... or wife?" Sherlock dodged that question by ignoring it entirely. Molly gave a smile to the thought that at least someone on this planet could think it possible for them to be in some romantic relationship.

"Yes it was very unfortunate. But no worries, she is fine. Just a little scold from the spilled coffee." Sherlock tried to reassure the lady. "Now what was it about the time change for tonight's activity?"

"Oh, yes! Well they had to make it an hour earlier. As news of rain storm might hit. It is at eight instead of nine. Oh how I wish my husband was still alive, it would be fun to go double speed dating. I am sure you and your love will have a grand old time."

"Yes, we are looking forward to it after the day she has had. Now I don't wish to be rude, but she really does need me right now. We are tending to her scolded skin." Sherlock sounded so genuine Molly almost believed it herself, if she hadn't known Sherlock. "I appreciate you taking time to let us know, thank-you."

"Oh, it was no bother dear as we are neighbors. I am only about ten feet away from you." with that Molly could hear her foot steps retreating as Sherlock peeked his head out further, then quickly popped it back in zipping the tent's door up as fast as he can. He spun around facing Molly with a usual brooding Sherlock look.

"I was sure we didn't have any 'neighbors' yesterday." He sounded annoyed at this news.

"Well maybe she came here this morning. It will be fine. She is like she said, ten feet away that is quite a distance. As well as the fact that she was really sweet." Molly gave him a look that said to tread carefully about this.

"Yes, very... Anyway! This is fantastic news!" Sherlock pumped his fists in the air excited as a little kid in a candy shop. Molly used to his change in moods didn't know how this could be that exciting.

"Sherlock..."

"It is fantastic in the way that, double speed dating will be a great opportunity to actually interview people. People of all different ages and personalities. We may be able to find answers we need." Sherlock began pacing. Probably thinking of ways to get the information out of their 'dates'.

"But how can we go to this? We aren't even a couple." Sherlock quit what he was doing looking at Molly.

"Well we are undercover Molly. Besides it's not that ridiculous for people to think we're a couple. All we have to do is make them believe it. I mean look at our neighbor, she believed without really seeing anything that we were together in some capacity." Molly gave a half smile. While internally cursing this camp and it's stupid activities.

"Now I think it's best if you lay low for the day. So that you will be ready for tonight."

"But what about finding information today?"

"Obviously this morning's activity didn't work out. But all I will be doing is finding a couple of people who seem like they won't be going tonight. Really don't need another person, I would be much quicker on my own. I will however need you tonight. Well rested and make sure that your scold has been taken care of. I will be back in time for us to get ready for our fake date." with that Sherlock spun back around and left the tent. Leaving Molly no time to answer. Molly let out a big breath. She didn't want to go on a fake date with Sherlock, she wanted a real one.


	10. Chapter 10

Molly has been restless the entire day. Mostly because of her looming 'fake date' with the one and only consulting detective. It seems that is all she can think about. She tries unsuccessfully to think of anything, but that. No matter what she tries, but her stupid brain keeps pacing back to it. Molly tried to read the romance novel she brought. Only to end up thinking of Sherlock as a steaming hot pirate who takes her hostage, but falls in love with her instead. Molly then tried to go for a walk, besides how will Sherlock really know? She takes one step outside and thinks better of it. She doesn't want him scolding her all night about not resting. Because some how he will know, if she went out instead of staying in. Considering he does know things for a living. Molly frustrated with herself and the situations she keeps getting into, on this nightmare of a trip, stomps over to the bed and lays down. Before Molly falls alseep, she prays to whoever is listening that everything will go swimmingly tonight.

Sherlock was seething mad. Mostly because he has wandered around this camp all day long and came up with nothing! Not a single suspicious person. He thought it would be a lot easier of a case to solve. After all, he only needs to find a killer in a crowd of people. Sherlock ruffled his hair in annoyance of how time consuming this is turning out to be. Another point he likes to point out to himself is he is only been really looking for a day. No thanks to a certain pathologist. Sherlock let out a sharp breath at the thought of her. In a way he is looking forward to tonight. The great opportunity that the double speed dating gave him. He could easily narrow it down after the 'interviews'. The only thing he is worried about is him having to pretend to have Molly as his date. He may get distracted with the task at hand. She has done a great job so far at distracting him. He just needs to focus and everything will be fine. Sherlock looked at his watch and saw that it was six-thirty. He decided he best go back to the tent and get ready for his fake date.

Once Sherlock stumbled inside the tent. He came across a sound asleep Molly. Sherlock rolled his eyes. She does a great deal of sleeping! When one has a case, they should use every waking hour to review and study it. Then Sherlock remembered it was in fact his idea that she rest after the mishap this morning. He felt incredibly guilty for the whole ordeal. Even though in reality he didn't set it up. Yes he did feel rather joyful at the moment. When now he feels rather differently. He should have let Anderson see Molly or maybe if he got his own coffee? Sherlock groaned in frustration at his thoughts. Thinking about it won't do any good! He needs to focus on the case, not Molly or his 'feelings' Sherlock had become at that instant very irritable. He strode over to Molly's sleeping form and nudged her with his foot. It didn't really do anything, she just mumbled some words and rolled over. Sherlock sighed, he bent down and placed his hand on her shoulder. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to what they shared together in this particular spot. The way she felt under him and the jolt of electricity he got from her kisses. Even now with just his hand on her shoulder, he could feel a buzz.

"Molly wake up, we have to get ready." He gently shook her awake.

Molly blinked a couple of times and looked up at him, still half asleep.

"Get ready for where?" She gave a big yawn while rubbing at her eyes.

"For our date!" He said impatiently. Really when people were riddled with sleep they became extremely useless. Well more so then usual. At his words Molly's eyes opened wider as she shot out of bed standing up. Sherlock was knocked over by her quickness rendering him flat on his back.

"Oh, sorry!" Molly ran over to him to make sure he was okay. Sherlock waved her off.

"I'm fine. Now we must hurry I want to get there early so I can scan the couples as they come in. it will make it easier to find out what tactic I must use in order to get information from them." With that Sherlock jumped up in one fluid motion and glided towards his pile of clothing. He rummaged through it until he found his suit. Which to his annoyance was wrinkled. Where was Mrs. Hudson when he needed her? It seemed she only came around when he didn't. Sherlock started undressing, he could hear Molly turning away and going through her bag, as he did.

Molly couldn't find a decent scrap of clothing to wear. She had only packed camping clothes. How was she suppose to know this camp was out of the ordinary and had special events. As well that she was going to be on a date, with Sherlock no less! She kept willing for something even remotely nice. Of course no luck. She already knew what she had packed, no use making a mess looking for something that wasn't even there. Molly gave a deep sigh. That apparently Sherlock was aware of.

"What is it?"

Molly turned at the sound of his voice. Seeing him fully dressed in his nice, but crumpled suit. Bloody hell, he still looked damn good, even in a rustled up suit. Molly had to blink a couple of times to get back on track.

"I have nothing to wear."

"Don't be ridiculous Molly! You packed things to wear, therefore you do in fact have something to wear." Molly made a don't be such a smart arse look. He knew exactly what she meant. Sherlock let out a breath and sagged his shoulders in defeat. "Fine. Let's see shall we?" He then made his way over to her bag ready to grab and search it. When Molly, with great speed, dove for her bag before he could touch it. She landed on her shoulder with a thump. Sherlock gave her a bewildered expression.

"Molly if I didn't know you, I would think your hiding something." Molly's cheeks went a bit pink. As she hugged her back to her body. Unwillingly to let him go through it. after all she wasn't going to go through another knickers fiasco. Never mind all her toiletries and feminine products she brought just in case. "Honestly Molly I can grantee that there is nothing in that bag that I haven't seen."

he was probably right, but she still didn't feel like giving it over to him. After all a woman should be able to keep her modesty. Just because it's Sherlock, the man who knows everything, doesn't mean he gets to look through her belongings. Sherlock gave a huff of annoyance at her unwillingness to cooperate. Molly just held on tighter.

"Fine just pick something to wear!" Sherlock snapped as he stormed out of the tent.

Molly kept her sight on the little door, even after it was zipped up. She had picked the wrong time to get on his bad side. It seemed he was in a sour mood tonight. This case, must not be going as planned. Then Molly remembered she was mostly the reason, it has been put on hold. So he must be upset at that. Molly got a tight feeling in her stomach, just thinking about it. She decided then, she wasn't going to stall it any longer. She was going to stay focused on this case, no matter what or rather who got in the way. With a breath she got up and chose a simple white t-shirt, and black trousers. Then set out to find her date.

Molly and Sherlock had arrived an hour early. No one was even there. That didn't stop Sherlock from investigating the entire room. He went frantically about, with his little magnifying glass. In the hopes of finding something. Molly wondered what he thought he could find, in an empty room. Well besides the tables and chairs that were all set up. But she sat quietly, keeping her promise to stay on this case, no matter what. Even if it seemed a tad ridiculous at the moment. Plus she wasn't going to get even more on his nerves, then she already has.

Once the clock hit seven forty, couples started piling in. of course that was Molly's cue to interrupt him, as he didn't notice. Per usual. Molly swiftly walked towards him nudging him with her hand. He immediately stopped what he was doing and turned towards the couples that were in front of them. His gaze locked on each as he deduced what he could, from just a first look. Molly loved watching him work. It amazed her, his talents. He was a genius there was no denying that. After everyone was there. Again the leader from this morning, which Molly probably guessed was the camp's top worker or owner. Stood at the front of the room ready to address them.

"Good evening and welcome to this weeks first adult's only activity! Tonight is our 'Double Speed Dating' which is exactly like speed dating. Except your on a date already with your partner, the speed dating is your double date! Another couple, that you and your companion will get five minutes with each. When the bell sounds you each will get up and find your next table. Now remember our goal is to find campers who can be friends! This is what this activity is all about. Just to have a good time with some other adults and mingling!" Sherlock chuckled at that.

"I'd say he has a thing for mingling. So obsessed with it, really quite sad." Molly looked up at Sherlock who seemed pleased with himself. She just rolled her eyes and looked forward again.

"Now please make a nice line in front of me so I can give you, your number so you know where to start." Everyone made a beeline for the poor man.

Molly waited for Sherlock to move, but he didn't. His eyes were fixed on the line, watching people. Figures, she had to go get the number. Why would he change, after all it was a fake date. Molly trudged up to the line a bit sulky. He could at least notice her a bit. Although a voice crept into her head, saying who would want to notice you in the get up your wearing, it's plain as day. Molly shook her head, as if it would get rid of her thoughts. She quickly got to the front and retrieved the number from the man. Who now she can see, that his name is Ted. She flashed a small smile, with her thanks and dashed off towards her tosser of a date. No surprise when he was in the exact same spot and position she left him in.

"Sherlock, we need to take our table now." Sherlock snapped back to reality at her words. He just blinked a couple of times waiting for Molly to usher him forwards. She turned around looking at the number on the little scrap of paper in her hand. Table eight, Molly scanned the tables until landing on the big bold eight place card. She went to just normally walk to the table, but she became very aware of Sherlock's piercing gaze on her backside. Biting her lower lip, she slowly strutted towards the table, letting her hips sway more then usual. When she got there, she went to pull out a chair. But she was stopped by Sherlock bounding from behind her to do it for her.

Molly gave a surprised smile, as she sat down. He took the seat beside her. She realized as she looked at him, he seemed … awkward. Like he had no clue of what to do. His hands were fidgeting in his lap, as he kept glancing at her and then other couples. It finally dawned on her that he probably never really went on a date, never on a fake date, she reminded herself. But how did he wow Janine? Molly really didn't want the answer to that. As she sucked in a deep breath, she lent a hand out towards his unmoving ones, resting it on top. He relaxed a bit at her touch. He was still stiff and didn't really look at her directly.

"Sherlock it's okay if your nervous about not knowing what to do."

"I'm not nervous." He said shyly trying to brush it off with a laugh. She only nodded.

"Okay." at that moment he decided to look at her, really look. Molly felt the urge to look away, his gaze was so intense. But after a couple of seconds, she couldn't help but return the look. Until it was broken by the first couple they were to spend five minutes with. As Molly jerked back a bit, her hand flying away from his, she turned to their double date. A nice looking man with short brown hair, who looked like a business man sat beside a very pretty woman. Who Molly couldn't help envy. She was the kind of women men want.

Exactly the opposite of herself. She had long beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes, a dazzling smile and long legs. Molly couldn't help but suddenly felt very silly for what she was wearing. She hated seeing Sherlock ogle the woman, even if he was deducing her. Molly decided it was time to start drinking. As she found the red wine bottle, in the center and pouring herself some. She didn't feel like offering anyone else any. She didn't care if everyone was staring at her. After all it was eight o'clock at night, not that bad. She rose the glass to her mouth. As the man leaned his hand over to shake Sherlock's.

"My name's Tom." Molly instantly choked on her wine that was trying to make it's way down her throat. Making gurgling and choking sounds. As Sherlock in alarm started patting her back gently. Concern all over his face.

"Are you alright, Molly?" Once Molly calmed down and everything was okay she gave a smile to reassure everyone that she was fine. Sherlock looked relieved, as he kept his hand on her back, now making blissful circles. Which Molly enjoyed. Maybe he did notice her a bit?

"Sorry about that. My love can be a bit clumsy, even while having a drink." He beamed his fake charm at the couple, snaking his arm around so his hand was on her shoulder. As he squeezed it and brought her closer to him. Of course anything to make them seem real. Maybe he didn't notice her after all.

"That's alright, woman usually are. With the exception of being in bed." The man turned to the woman and winked.

What a disgusting wanker! Molly thought. She went to say something, but Sherlock gripped his hand a bit tighter on her shoulder, looking at her. She has to keep a low profile, she knows. But this sod deserved a talking to. Sherlock just chuckled along with the man. Molly knew he was only humoring him, for the case. Sherlock began to rub small circles on her shoulder with his thumb. Probably thinks it will calm her down.

Unfortunately, no such luck. She didn't know if she could stand three more minutes of this man. She suddenly felt sorry for the woman, though Molly had no idea why she would stick around. Though she shouldn't be judging. Because it wasn't so long ago, it was Sherlock making jibes at her. But she still wanted to please him. Love makes you do silly things. At that instant Molly felt a heel grazing her legs. As she jumped back in her seat startled at the contact. The woman in front of her went red in the face. Breaking her sensual air.

"I'm so sorry." She squeaked out. Molly wondered why this woman would be embarrassed. She would if it were her of course. But women like this don't usually care. Molly awoke form her thoughts realizing she hadn't said anything.

"It's alright." After that Sherlock and the man resumed their conversation. Molly knew she should be conversing with the woman across from her, but she didn't know what to say really. As the bell rang letting them know it was time to move on. Which Molly was thankful for. She picked up her half empty glass of wine, and rose to go to the next table. Sherlock quickly attached his arm with hers, giving her a smile. Molly couldn't help, but wonder if maybe somewhere these actions were meant for her, rather then the part she had to play. He lowered his head to her ears and whispered softy.

"Not our man. Although his wife might find him guilty, with his little girlfriend on the side." Molly formed an o with her mouth realizing what he just said. As they glided together towards the next table. Again Sherlock pulled the chair out for her. Once they were seated. The next couple came right away. Molly knew that this was going to be a rather long night.

After a hour and a half Molly had, had enough. All the talking and the loving couples, who all claimed to be madly in love. Made jealousy seep out of her. Not to mention, the little things Sherlock did, to make it seem they too were madly in love. Which no matter how hard she tried, still tugged at her heart strings, Sherlock was just too convincing for it not to. Molly beamed when Ted, announced this was the last round. As she and Sherlock took their seats for the last time that night. Molly gladly poured her fourth glass of wine that evening. Sherlock groaned, making Molly look up to see no other, but Anderson and a woman coming up to their table. Once they were both seated across from them, Sherlock's loving boyfriend act disappeared.

"Sherlock! You didn't tell me Molly was with you! I thought you were on a" Anderson lowered his voice. "on a case."

"I am!" Sherlock said a bit too loudly and defensively at that.

"Then what is Molly Hooper doing here?" He asked as if she wasn't even there.

"Molly is helping me."

"Wait a minute. That's why you didn't answer me about John. You didn't want me to find out you were with Molly." Sherlock rolled his eyes at the man. "But Molly wasn't with you this morning." that got Molly's attention. Because she had in fact been at the meet up, but Sherlock didn't say anything about Philip showing up. In fact Sherlock wasn't even by her side until she had fallen. She was on the ground for at least two minutes. Molly started thinking back to the terrible incident that occurred. Sherlock must have caught on to her analyzing, because he let out his warning "Molly"

Actually now that she remembers more. She had given Sherlock a look with the coffee in hand, he looked back at her. He was only about five feet away if that. So why did it take him so long to get to her, and why did he claim he didn't see what happened, when he had to have. Then as she looked towards Anderson and Sherlock multiple times. Something clicked. She now remembers Sherlock was chatting with a man, who now that she thinks of it looked a lot like Philip.

"You set it up, didn't you!" Molly couldn't control the hurt and anger she felt.

"What? Molly do be silly. I didn't set anything up."

"It's so like you, isn't it. 'Well Molly wouldn't find out, so why not.' Molly mimicked as if she were Sherlock."All you had to do was pay a little boy to distract me from getting over to you and Philip. Because god forbid you would be seen with me!"

"Molly enough. Clearly you have been drinking to much. Just calm down, I didn't-"

"Clearly your still the horrendous ass you were five years ago! Only thinking of yourself." Molly spat out raging now.

"Molly please-" Just then Sherlock was interrupted by Ted over the booming microphone. Everyone's heads swiveled in his direction.

"Now tonight has been loads of fun hasn't it?" He asked. As the people in the room clapped in approval. Molly couldn't bring herself to pretend this was any fun. Especially now.

"Well before we all go let's look at the couple awards." Couple awards? Molly couldn't remember anything being said about that.

"I know you all are thinking, what couple awards?" Damn she hates when people do that.

"Well while all of you were chatting it up, I went around and observed you all. I have picked three deserving couples for three awards. The awards are Married for life, Love birds, and cutest couple!"

If Molly wasn't so mad she might have thought this was a sweet gesture, even though the names were completely rubbish. She didn't pay attention to the first two awards as she just re poured a fifth glass and downed it. She was getting a bit of a headache from the alcohol. But as long as it helped subdue the pain, it was worth it.

"Now for our last award, which is our very special award. Who ever get's cutest couple, always has to come up here and show everyone a little kiss. It's tradition."

Molly wondered why on earth only one award kiss was a tradition. She actually didn't care, she just wanted to leave. Though she couldn't actually get away from Sherlock, since they shared a tent and now a sleeping bag. This was the first time she actually cursed John Watson.

"Okay everyone, here is our cutest couple for tonight. Can Shezza (Sherlock's undercover name) and Molly please make their way up here!" of course everyone already knew their names from tonight, so suddenly all eyes were on their table. Sherlock stood up with his hand stuck out for Molly. She glared at him, but took his hand anyway. It felt like minutes had passed by, when only it was seconds. She went to grab the award. Ted pulled it back, with a smirk on his face.

"Don't tell me you forgot about the kiss." Molly's face went pure white. She did forget. She turned around seeing Sherlock with his fake little loving smile down at her. His head ready to swoop in and place a kiss on her lips. At the last moment, she flinched. Leaving him stunned for a second, while whispering to her.

"Molly what are you doing? Kiss me." Molly couldn't take it anymore. She laughed. Hysterically at that. Everyone had puzzled faces, while Sherlock had annoyance clearly written all over his. Once Molly gained some composure, she stood up straight, looking Sherlock right in the eyes.

"I'm suppose to just kiss you am I?"

"Yes" He said through gritted teeth.

"That's a good one. Really it is. I mean why should I do you any favors, Sher... Shezza. Hmm? All you ever do for me is make me look like a fool. Because God forbid anyone see us together! I get it your not interested! You've made yourself loud and clear. But really going as far as paying some kid to trip me!"

Everyone gasped at her outburst as if their in some little show.

"Molly, I told you-"

"Your nothing but an insufferable git! you've always have been! I hate you!" Molly was off her rockers mad at this man. At how he made her feel, how he treated her kindly at times, then turns around and is the same man who told her to wear lipstick because her lips were too small. Maybe if Molly had been paying attention she would have noticed how Sherlock jerked back at her harsh words. Especially how his face, turned to hurt at her "I hate you".

"So no I will not kiss you. I'd rather kiss a pig."

Sherlock couldn't believe Molly was behaving like this. He thought probably the wine helped out a bit. This was the hurt and trying to control things before I get damaged Molly. She was protecting herself. Which he couldn't blame her. He did do rotten things to her, still does. Sherlock had no idea, he hurt her so much that she would think him capable of creating such a embarrassing situation for her. He would never do that to her. But she was being too busy with her anger to let him get a word in edge wise about it. Which in turn made him angry. Angry that he felt things for her. Angry that she was ruining this case for him. Every time it's her fault, why he isn't finding clues. She is either kissing him, getting herself into trouble, or not sleeping! She should be apologizing to him! She has been one big sentimental in convince to him! She wanted to play this game, he would play it!

"Well if you want a pig to kiss I am sure Anderson would love to volunteer, wouldn't you Anderson?" Sherlock said in his cold harsh voice. He didn't turn to look at him, as he sputtered out an answer.

"Umm..well.."

"How rude! You know it doesn't hurt to be nice for once in your life!"

"Yes people keep saying that, but haven't been able to come up with one hundred percent results! Although when I was concerned for you the other night, you did repay me with your mouth."

Molly jumped a bit, at the mention of their snog session the other night. A flash of hurt crossed her face, but she did a good job of keeping it off.

"Well I won't be making that mistake again!"

"Good I wouldn't want you too. It was terrible, really. I only dated Janine for a case and she served a better snog then you!" he snarled at her.

Molly's world stopped. She couldn't move or find words to speak. She felt like she couldn't breath. As the worst pain she could imagine hit her, as he spoke those words. It was cruel, he knew it. Molly's eyes started to water. She tried so hard to keep them in. he didn't deserve the satisfaction of seeing her tears. Molly tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. As she looked around the now dizzying room, at all the people who pitied her. She wanted to scream, yell, cry all at once. Too many emotions for her to handle. She literally felt sick to her stomach. She instinctively put a hand to her abdomen, as if somehow that could help her. She looked up towards Sherlock for the first time after he said those words. Which in reality was only seconds ago, felt like minutes. He seemed to realize what he had just said, as his face turned into regret. Molly finally just gave into her tears as they came streaming down her face. Making Sherlock a blurry image. He tried to reach out to her, but she tore away and fled the suffocating room. Out into the stormy night. Molly was instantly soaked from the rain pouring down. She didn't care, she just wanted to get away.

Sherlock had a pounding in his ears that wouldn't go away. As Molly ran out the door and into the night. How could he do that? Say those words to her. Why was he always vicious towards her, in the most hurtful ways possible. John's voice rang in his head answering him "Because your a dick.". He was, he truly was. Molly was just upset, and drunk. She had a right to be. He had changed his behaviors with her faster then minutes passed by. He was always lashing out at his feelings towards her. Molly's voice came back from that dreadful Christmas like a taunt in his mind. "You always say such horrible things, every time... always – always." She was right, he did. Sherlock didn't take in all the people staring dagger at him, as he sprinted to the door to find Molly.


	11. Chapter 11

It took Sherlock almost an hour to find Molly. Mostly because he was in hysterics trying to find her. Every which way he went and came to a dead end, he would retreat into his mind palace, to find a visual of the camp's layout. Course he had no idea where Molly would have gone, he already knew the tent was no good. When he got a few feet away he could tell no one was inside. If he had only gotten closer he now realizes he would have heard Molly crying. He found her just a few feet away sitting up against a tree. Immediately he ran to her, but slowed down when he got closer. He wasn't sure how to do... this. Yes he could just say 'I'm sorry', but something tells him that isn't going to work out this time. When he approached her she sniffled and turned away from him.

"Molly." Sherlock said in almost a strangled voice.

"Go away!"

"Please Molly." It took a couple of beats before he got a reply.

"Why can't you be normal." Molly said quietly.

In that moment he wished that he could, for her.

When he was younger, in primary school he wished that exact thing. Only for a bit though. It was only because the other children didn't understand, they mocked him and his intelligence. Everyday he was chased home, by a group of children. Their words ringing through the streets as they ran. 'Sherlock's a freak!' soon it just turned into 'Freak' over and over again. Once he was safely inside, he would run to his room before Mycroft could catch him and the tears that streamed down his face. His favorite hiding spot was the back of his closet. It was somewhere real quiet, where he could fit behind all of his clothing and no one, not even Mycroft could find him there.

They just all assumed he ran off somewhere else and would return later. Young Sherlock would pull his knees up to his chin, crying and rocking back and forth saying to no one 'I'm not a freak!'. It's there in that very closet he made a mind palace. He could go there and remember whatever he wanted, be wherever he wanted. Obviously as he got older he didn't need to use it for fun. One day at the end of the year Mycroft heard the other kids screaming freak and by chance saw Sherlock running for his life. His brother decided to follow and see the whole ordeal. Mycroft was very sneaky, Sherlock didn't notice him until his closet door opened suddenly. There stood his big brother, leering down at the tear stained Sherlock.

"Go away!" Sherlock got up trying to push his brother out of the way. Unfortunately a preteen boy was hard for a child to push.

"Oh, Sherlock. Look at you." Sherlock sniffled wiping his tears.

"Leave me alone!"

"Is that really what you want little brother?" Sherlock noticed the softness in his older brother's voice. Where there usually was mock and cruelty.

"No. I want to be normal." little Sherlock peered into Mycroft's eyes. Just like that the softness had vanished and in it's place returned the Mycroft that he knew so well.

"Now why ever would you want that?" Without another word his brother left, leaving him alone once again.

Sherlock couldn't help, but think of what Mycroft said. How his brother was like him, extremely smart. He never let the other children get to him. He came to the conclusion at just six years old that he didn't need to be normal or have friends. He would be the most brilliant person the world has ever known. He would show them, he really would. It wasn't long before his parents got wind of his bullies. No thanks to Mycroft. It turned out to be a good thing, not long after he received a puppy. His one and only true friend. Years later, when he lost him, is where he vowed he will never feel like that again. Just as his brother said 'Caring is not an advantage'.

He knew Molly didn't truly mean what she said. She fell in love with him they way he was... is.

"You don't really want that."

"What gives you the right to tell me what I want or not?" Molly stood up now and faced him. She was soaked. Then again so was he.

"We should go to the tent. You might catch a cold." He went to grab her hand, but she yanked it back before he could.

"You and I both know, that's not true." He could see she was freezing. She had her arms crossed across her chest, shivering. The rain wasn't stopping, he wanted to make sure she would go some place dry, a little more warm. He didn't know what he needed to do to convince her to come back with him. He also didn't know how to undo what he's done.

"Doesn't matter. Your cold."

She tried her best at looking like she wasn't at all bothered by the cold.

"Not really."

"Molly-" He tried to reach for her again.

"Don't touch me!"

He hated the hate in her voice. The hurt in her eyes. It was worse when he knew he was to blame for it. Sherlock never wanted to hurt Molly. He just wants to keep her safe and as happy as she can be. Of course again his emotions took over, and he's hurt her. It seems he can't stop doing that lately.

"Okay, I won't. But Molly you really must get out of this rain, we can talk in the tent. Come on"

Molly, Sherlock figured out can be just as stubborn as him. She just stands there rooted to the spot. Unwilling to budge. He began to run his hands through his hair, out of frustration. How can one woman, make him feel so many emotions all at once. It was maddening! Love, anger, frustration, confusion, wonder and so much more. Just one person.

Molly scoffed at him. It would be impossible to tell if she was still crying if it wasn't for the wavering of her voice. He looked at her then, really looked. It was the Molly he's known for five years. Except she wasn't, she was different. Even crying and soaking wet from the rain, she was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. To others she might look just ordinary. To him she was extraordinary, in every way. He knows without a doubt he loves her.

Sherlock moves closer to her so that only inches separates them. He places a hand on her cheek and wipes at the tears, or rain he wasn't sure.

"Molly I am sorry for what I said to you back there. I just … I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't. And I promise I didn't pay that boy to trip you. It was just a stupid coincidence, that's all. I would never do that to you." He slowly leans in and kisses her. His eyes shutting immediately, as his lips touch hers. He pulls away slightly, their lips almost touching. They stay like that for a bit. Just looking into each others eyes, the only sound is of their breathing. Until Molly breaks the distance by softly kissing him back, letting out a gasp as he presses his lips against hers more fervently. Sherlock pins Molly up against the tree, his hands cupping her head, hers are roaming through his curls, while they kiss frantically. He picks her up so her face is level with his, Molly wraps her legs around his waist, bringing their bodies closer together. Sherlock presses her back more into the tree, as they continue their heated kiss.

Sherlock lets out a groan in her mouth, sending her back to reality. She immediately stops kissing him. She refuses to do this again, she won't let him do this to her. She wasn't going to be the one left standing here after he was finished, heart broken. No, Molly was going to stop this before it got too late. Of course Sherlock didn't get the hint when she stopped kissing him. His mouth finding the sensitive skin just below her ear, sucking lightly. Sending pleasant vibrations through her, she couldn't help but moan and throw her head back. Allowing him to continue. She wants this, she wants him.

"Sherlock." She moans out. Encouraging him as she runs her fingers through his hair. God this felt good. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if she could indulge in this. She could handle her feelings when it was over. She deserves this, to be with him like this. Molly yanked his head up to hers again, so they could continue their kiss. Letting her fingers move toward the buttons on his shirt. She allowed her mouth to travel to his neck, nipping lightly as she sucked. Sending Sherlock's head back with pleasure. She managed to get three buttons undone. Which was just enough to let her leave some hot kisses on his chest, before he brought her back up. They both paused allowing to get their breath back. Not one of them took their eyes off each other.

"Molly, I want you." Those words are the ones she could only dream he say to her. That's all she's ever wanted him to say. She just wanted him to want her. It felt amazing to hear him utter those words. His pupils fully dilated, hair wild, breathing ragged. She was sure she must have looked the same to him. The rain pouring down on them. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, before kissing her again. She couldn't help, but think back to yesterday and them doing the same thing. But wasn't this different? Didn't he say he wanted her? No matter how hard Molly fought her sensible side of her brain, she knew this shouldn't be happening. Not like this. Sherlock did and said things he didn't mean all the time, especially when he didn't know how to handle things. Maybe this was him not knowing how to handle what happened on their fake date, or sexual frustration. Whatever it was, in the end it wouldn't be fair to her. She knew that. Again she stopped kissing him and drew her head back a little. Apparently he still couldn't take a hint if it would save his life as he swooped back in for another kiss. Molly took his head and pulled it away.

"No, Sherlock. Stop." Unwinding her legs from him, she drops to the ground. Sherlock just peers down hurt and confused. "You don't really want this." was all she aid before running off towards the tent. Leaving Sherlock behind for the third time that day.


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock didn't show up for hours. Molly too tired and worn out from the day, eventually fell asleep. She was sure that some time later, she awoke when he entered the tent. She kept her eyes shut tight, staying as still as she could so he thought she was still sleeping. She could feel him get in beside her. Molly waited until Sherlock's breath was even, before letting the tears fall. No matter how much she wished he would just talk about what happened, what he said... she knew he wouldn't. Just like he didn't follow her when she ran to the tent. He probably never will. It wasn't long before she drifted off again.

When she woke up in the morning he was gone. It made her wonder if he was even there at all. Molly slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes and wincing at her pounding headache. Without a doubt she knew today was going to be another long day. Wasn't it always with Sherlock Holmes?

Sherlock watched Molly run to the tent. He went to follow her, to pull her flush against him, tell her he meant every word and kiss her until she saw that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Something held him back. Every time he went forward he stopped and planted his feet firmly to the ground. His chest ached for her, the pain he always seemed to cause her. She didn't deserve that or him. He was a curse to everyone he loved... loves. Sherlock had no idea how to stop himself at times, which is why Molly is better off without him. So he stood there in the rain trying to think of what to do next.

It was some time before the rain stopped. It made Sherlock snap out of the daze he was in. The different plans that ran through his head. He looked at the time, three in the morning. Didn't realize he had been there that long. Standing up and brushing off his soaked clothing, he made his way to the tent. When he got there he paused outside for a moment. He could hear Molly's faint snore coming from the tent, making him smile. He took a few seconds to just listen to her, before entering. He carefully stripped his wet clothes and laid them out to dry. Putting on his favorite pair of pajamas, he slowly got in on his side of the bed. It was a bit difficult, considering Molly loved to sleep, splayed out. So he accidentally bumped her, making him stop to make sure she didn't wake up. Once he was all snug, well as snug as one can be without a nice warm blanket. He allowed himself to fall asleep to the sound of Molly breathing and her warm body against his.

A couple hours later he awoke. Looking up at the tent's ceiling thinking. The nights events hitting him hard. He couldn't help, but look at Molly every so often. She seemed so peaceful with no worries. He knew that as soon as she got up, she would remember too and the peace will vanish quickly being replaced by hurt. Sherlock understood enough about the way things work to know he should stay and wait for her to wake. So they could talk about last night, about everything. He was going to tell her this time, he was. No more lies and hiding how he feels. He will admit that he knows she can do better, and that if she didn't want him anymore he understands. Even though that would break his heart. Sherlock's mobile started going off like crazy, pinging every second. Sherlock furrowed his brows, who could be texting him this early? After the tenth ping! He got up to silence it so it wouldn't disturb Molly. He was only going to turn it off, but something caught his eye. They weren't texts, but little videos. Odd. He decided to get dressed and go out to watch them. Hoping that Molly wouldn't wake up and think he left her without another explanation. He left the tent and walked a few steps so the video wouldn't wake her.

Sherlock was eager to see what they could be about. Maybe Mycroft found some interesting information on their killer. Knowing that he could use all the help that was offered, since he seems too busy with his love life to work a case. Taping on the first video that was sent, the screen was pure black, with just the play button. This must have been taken at night. Pressing play, he could see two people, a male and female... how could this have something to do with the case. He soon got his answer. He recognized himself and Molly... the tree. Sherlock looked up and all around him, but found no one. He gazed back at the screen playing the video. He turned the volume up so he could hear.

"You don't really want that."

"What gives you the right-" The video stopped.

His heart was pounding in his chest. Looking up again in hopes of finding someone around. Some sick joke they thought was funny. He tried to find a number attached to the video, but it was an unknown number and untraceable. Every single video, was from the same unknown number.

He skipped a few of the first videos and played one of the middle ones. He could tell before playing it that the person who filmed this had gotten closer. Tapping the play button. Sherlock kissing Molly, the two of them looking at each other and then frantically kissing. Not wanting to see the rest and eager to see if he could find clues, had him tapping the second video. He was kissing her neck, Molly's hands running through his hair.

"Sherlock" Her moan filling the cold air.

He suddenly felt very aware that others could hear these videos, he turned down the volume a bit. Sherlock was getting more upset at each video he watched. Videos of him and Molly's intimate moment. Something twisted in his gut, he had a feeling these videos weren't just to show him someone was watching last night, they had another purpose entirely.

He came to the last video. Without bothering to analyze it or the unknown number, before playing.

"Molly, I want you." Whoever filmed this was extremely close now, He could see his face clearly. His full blown pupils, the ragged breath... The video did something unexpected. Unlike the others which was just a filmed version of them. This one paused, and then replayed.

"Molly, I want you." Over and over again. His words playing back to him, taunting him. It was on a never ending loop. Sherlock in a panic, searched his surroundings nothing, no one was in sight. He hadn't turned the video off, so as he ran around frantically it played, echoing where ever he went. His head was spinning. He had no idea who it could be, he couldn't think straight. Some one was watching them, filming them, and ... what? Taunting? Blackmail? He had no clue. This could put them both at risk. More so Molly then himself of course... Molly! He quickly turned his phone off and went towards the tent. He soon realized he was no where near it, making him panic even more. Without realizing it he had run half way across the camp, in his search. He didn't even take time to think, he just ran.

She waited a couple of minutes to see if by some miracle Sherlock would come through the flap and want to talk about what he said and if it was true. She just wanted him to do something about it. You can't just be like that with someone and say you want them, then act like it didn't happen. You just don't. Frustrated and angry, Molly got up kicking the dressing gown she was using for a blanket across the room. Unsatisfied, she decided to destroy the sleeping bag tossing it and the pillow. Getting her anger out by destroying the tent. She went to her bag, tearing into it trying to find something to wear. She quickly got dressed. Before heading out to the loo and get some breakfast, she punched the sides of the tent for a good three minutes. She was too mad to notice she forgot to close the flap on her way out, stomping all the way to the lodge.

Sherlock's worst fear had come true as he reached the tent. The Tent's door was wide open, making him sprint faster then he ever did. Images of Molly flashed across his vision. He thought he was going to be sick, when he got inside. The tent was in disarray, everything was thrown every which way. Signs of a struggle. Damn! Those videos were a distraction, so whoever took them could get to her. His fingers started pulling his hair, he paced around like a mad man. Trying to find anything that could link him to where she went. Coming up with nothing, he threw things around, making a bigger mess. There has to be something! He couldn't think straight he could only think about her... Molly. How scared she must be, to find a stranger when she woke, struggling the best she could to get away, succeeding. Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose, going into his mind palace. He was thrown out of it, by no other then-

"Christ! What happened here, Sherlock!?"

"ANDERSON!" He screamed. Anderson jumped back, giving a nervous laugh. Sherlock's eyes darkened at the man. He walked slowly, almost predatory towards him. Sherlock gritted his teeth, taking Anderson's collar in his hands. He could feel Anderson's fear and admiration all at once.

"You o-okay Sherlock?" The man smiled awkwardly at him. Before Sherlock had time to do anything else his phone rang. He let Anderson go, making him almost fly back, as he retrieved his phone. It was the unknown number.

"Hello?" He answered. His breathing frantic, hands shaking, Sherlock was scared. He could hear the steady breaths of a person on the other end of the phone. "I know your there, so you might as well speak!"

"Sherlock."

Every hair rose on his body, Eyes wide.

"Where is she?!" Sherlock growled.

Moriarty laughed.

"Where... where is who? Sherlock?" Anderson asked timidly. Sherlock glared at him, before returning to his phone conversation.

"If you do anything to her, I will rip you apart!"

"Do anything to who?" He could feel Moriarty's smile through his words.

"You know exactly who! Don't. Play games with me!"

"I thought that was what we did. I'm merely going by our rules."

"Well don't! Just leave her out of this, if you want me come and get me, but let her go!"

"Oh love makes things so boring!" Moriarty said. "Take me! I'm the one you want! Not my precious Molly Hooper." He taunted. "Sherlock you've changed, what about the game? Wouldn't you rather play?"

"Not this time."

"Of course not. Too bad I do. Good bye Sherlock."

"No! Wait!" It was too late Moriarty hung up. Sherlock threw his phone into the tent. He started kicking it.

"Who was that?" Anderson finally asked. Making him stop abusing the tent. He turned on Anderson.

"You stupid, idiot! Leave me alone!" Sherlock pounced, grabbing him by the collar again. Anderson winced and braced for impact. Sherlock blinked and let him go. "I'm sorry." he stepped a few paces back, making sure there was distance between them.

"It's alright. Something happened didn't it?"

"Yes. Moriarty has taken Molly and it's all my fault. I let my feelings get in the way of keeping her safe."

"Molly? He took her?"

"Yes! Weren't you listening?!"

"But I just saw Molly." Sherlock's eyes bore into Anderson.

"Where?! When?!"

"Up at the lodge, she was talking to some women while having breakfast. Five minutes ago. He couldn't have taken her with all those people."

Sherlock's face lit up, relief washing over him. Moriarty was just playing with him. But that doesn't mean it will stop him from taking her.

"Anderson your a genius!"

"Really?!"

"No. I need your help to keep Molly safe."

"Anything."

Molly had calmed down a tad, as she walked back to the tent. Some how she knew He wouldn't be there when she got back. She was right. Although Philip was.

"If your waiting for Sherlock, don't"

"I'm not. I'm waiting for you." He pulled out her bag from behind him. What?

"Why do you have my bag?"

"I'm to take you to a car, that will take you back home."

"No! I won't." Sherlock was not just going to send her off like she was nothing, an inconvenience to him and his work.

"You won't come willingly then?"

"No I will not! You can tell Sherlock if he wants to-" Anderson lifted Molly up over his shoulder. "Put me down!" She screamed and kicked at him. Throwing insults. She tired herself out quickly, the tears streaming down her face as she took one last look at the tent, whispering his name.

Sherlock felt pain like never before watching Molly kicking and screaming. This was for her well being. He was going to right his wrong. He can't be selfish, not when it comes to the people he loves, not to her. Molly has to be kept safe. He made sure Mycroft sent a car out and heavy surveillance at her flat and work. As well as people follow her where she went. He also upped the surveillance on the Watson's, Mrs. Hudson and Lestraude. He was going to make sure this time, Moriarty couldn't use them or get to them like last time. No, Moriarty would have to come and get Sherlock the old fashion way. No more hiding behind his loved one's to get to him. No more.

Anderson finally put Molly down when they reached the black car.

"I'm sorry Molly it's for your own good." The trunk popped open and he put her bag inside. Molly took off in a run, but Anderson caught her and dragged her to the car. "You'll be safe, trust me." He opened the door and lightly pushed her into it, before slamming it shut. Molly could hear the locks click, letting her know she was trapped until they reached her flat. Her sobs filling the car, as it drove away. Only minutes away from the camp, the partition slid down. Molly stopped crying and looked up. All she could see was a driver's hat. He didn't say anything, or look up to let her see him. It was strange. Taking a shaky breath she leaned forward. Her gasps filling the silence, as he looked up. Covering her mouth with her hand, she flew back in her seat.

"Sherlock should be more careful with his toys, don't you think Miss Hooper?" Moriarty said chuckling.


	13. Chapter 13

Molly felt like she was going to be sick. Jim... or rather Moriarty just cackled at her.

"Let me out!"

"Now why would I do that?"

She started to panic. Although panicking will get her no where, she couldn't help it. Molly went to the door and started pounding with her fist, surely she will have bruises to show for it later. In minutes her hands were too sore to continue her useless pounding. She opted for kicking at the door with all her might. Moriarty found this all too amusing.

"Why do they always struggle? Pity. Your just like the rest Molly. Boring." He sighed and lifted the partition up.

Her kicking became less and less, too tired. She was wearing herself out and quickly. Never mind all she had done to Philip. She gave one last kick to the door, before ceasing entirely. Molly laid across the back seat, worn out from everything. It was all too much Sherlock, this... just all of it. She wanted to cry, but no tears came. Probably because she used them up already. Molly's whole body ached, her body, emotions. She was so tired. She fought as hard as she could to stay awake, but her eyes kept shutting. The only thing that was keeping her awake, was the bumps on the old road. Soon even that couldn't keep her awake.

Xxxxx

It was John's turn to watch Isabelle while Mary finally got to go to the salon for some 'alone time'. He has to admit he did sulk a tad, when he found out he doesn't get any me time. When he asked Mary about his alone time, she simply spouted off all the things she had to endure, while pregnant, giving birth, and now. Apparently fathers don't get that luxury. He supposed it would be alright when Sherlock came back, Mary would defiantly allow him to go on cases. So he's not going to argue. He had just put Izzy down for a nap, when a knock came to the door. The knock waking the baby, she gave a shrill cry. John jumped into action right away. First he bundled her up in his arms and bounced her slightly on his way to the door. This had better be good.

He was surprised to find Greg here.

"Hello, John!" He came right in smiling.

"Hi. Not to be rude or anything why are you here?"

"Well I can't find Sherlock anywhere! He's not answering his phone. Mrs. Hudson said he went on a camping trip. Thought maybe she was taking those pain killers again, you know." Greg made a gesture of her downing pills.

John just continued bouncing from right to left, thankfully Izzy stopped wailing and is falling back to sleep. "Sherlock's on a case for you." He walked over to the bassinet placing her inside gently.

"What case?"

"The one at a camp... undercover work?"

"I didn't send him on a case. There was no undercover job at a camp."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Then... Jesus!"

"What?!"

John ran to his mobile, to call Sherlock. "Someone set him up!"

"He's not answering his phone remember?"

"Yes his phone. He has a decoy, undercover one he uses, so no one can detect him."

Greg just shook his head, hoping Sherlock would answer his best friend.

Xxxxx

Sherlock had just finished scouting the camp for more clues to lead him to the killer, but again came up empty handed. There should be no way he could be missing anything. Yet all the people he runs into, end up being normal. No hiding murderers anywhere. Sherlock sat down at the cafeteria table with his lunch. Thinking about Molly. She should already be half way to London by now. He felt sad that she had to go, but knew it was for the best. She would be safe and happy. That's all he wants for her.

Anderson broke him from his thoughts as he slid into the chair across from him."Everything's handled."

"She's safe?"

"Yes. Put her in the car myself... She tried running away." Anderson looked down at the table.

"I had a thought she might. She's strong and stubborn." He smiled.

"A lot like you."

Sherlock's smile was replaced by coldness, his eyes turning dark. "Shut up!"

Anderson cowered back slightly.

"Sorry" He did help him out today. He shouldn't have snapped at the man. Sherlock hated feeling regret. Anderson assured Molly's safety in ways he couldn't, which he would always be grateful for. Sherlock knew if he was the one to look Molly in the face and tell her she was to leave, he would end up telling her everything. What he felt for her, that last night wasn't just a way to get her attention and stop being mad at him. With him Molly would refuse to go even more so then she did with Anderson. He's afraid that he wouldn't have had the strength to make her leave. He would have been unbelievably selfish. Letting her stay with him, where she belonged-

"Did you catch the killer yet?"

Sherlock rubbed his temples. Anderson wasn't going to go away. "No."

"It's a bit odd, isn't it? You always catch the killer in record time."

That got his attention. Not because it was taken in a way for a compliment (though he did love those) but because Anderson was right. This was a simple case. Find the guilty hiding in plain sight. Not a hard thing to do, even with all of the things that happened with Molly. There were plenty of times he went out on his own and ended up with … nothing. Why was this case so difficult?

Anderson laughed. Placing his chin in his hand he leaned on the table looking at Sherlock.

"What?" Sherlock spat out coldly.

"Well I was just thinking. This seems like one of those times that in a movie or telly program, the main characters find out it was all but a ruse. You know to distract them."

Sherlock's eyes widened. Distract. Who would want to distract him? ... WHO?! ... Stupid, who else. Of course his phone started ringing. Pulling it out he didn't even have to look at who it was. "John"

"Sherlock, I think you've been set up. Greg is here with me now. There is no case, never was."

"I've just figured that out. My guess is that Moriarty wanted me out of London for a couple of days. Has anything big happened.?"

"No, nothing. London's been quiet."

Sherlock was confused. If he's right and Moriarty sent him out here, then why has nothing happened? It makes no sense to send him away and do nothing. Uh! It doesn't make any sense. Wait! John, Mary, Isabelle, Lestraude, and Mrs. Hudson are in London. He isn't. "John are you at home?"

"Yes. I was watching Isabelle. Why?"

"Is Mary with you?"

"No. She's gone to the Salon."

"John, as soon as you get off the phone with me, make sure Mary stays with you. In fact get Lestraude and Mrs. Hudson. You all need to stick together."

"Sherlock I don't understand-"

"Just do it! You all need to look out for each other."

"Okay. Yeah, we will. Sherlock wha-"

Sherlock could hear some background noise. His heart started beating rapidly. Everyone he ever cared about is in London. While he's three hours away. Moriarty threatened them before, he wouldn't hesitate to do so again. He got an pang in his stomach, remembering that he just sent Molly back there. Moriarty knows, she isn't just someone at Bart's anymore. No, she's much more. "John? … John!"

"S-Sherlock. It's okay. Mary just got back. She … she got a message."

He didn't like the way his friend sounded. What happened? "What is it?"

"Molly isn't with you anymore is she" It was a statement not a question

His ears started ringing. He couldn't concentrate. Why would John know that or want to know. Molly's safe. She's with Mycroft's driver and loads of security. Sherlock kept repeating those details over and over in his head. Shutting his eyes tight. "I think you already know the answer John."

"Sherlock." Mary's worried voice came through.

"Mary." His voice was strangled. Barely holding it together.

"I'm so sorry." Mary was very telling. Her voice was broken and wobbling. She had been crying, still crying. "There's a video he sent me. I already forward it to you."

"Thank you." He quickly gestured Anderson to hand his mobile over. "Mary could you send it to Anderson? So we can stay on the phone?"

"Yeah." Sherlock gave his number to her and she sent it.

Seconds later Sherlock got the video. His thumb hovering over the play button, breathing ragged. He took one final moment before pressing play. It was dark, meaning it had to be inside. Considering Molly had left hours ago. It was early afternoon. Suddenly a light came on. He instantly recognized the place. It was dirty and unkempt. Looked abandoned if one came across it. The video shaking every step the person took. Up the stairs and into a big room. Sunlight filling it. The rows of old filthy mattresses, the only sign the house was being used. Once filled with sellers and users, now empty. Except one. This was a new bed. Stood out like a sore thumb. There to Sherlock's horror was Molly. Tied to the bed posts, so she couldn't get free. As the camera got closer, he could see she wasn't awake. He was on alert. Moriarty could have done anything to her and Sherlock wasn't there to stop him.

"Don't worry. She's fine." Moriarty's voice rang out. As if he knew exactly what he was thinking. He turned the camera on himself and smiled. "Long time no see, Sherlock. Look what I have." The camera now filming Molly. "She's so sleepy." Sherlock's skin crawled as he watched Moriarty stroke her pale face. "So beautiful. Such a shame though. That you failed her." The camera landed very briefly on her arms. Where there was multiple bruising. Sherlock's fist tightened. "Oh, you should have heard her scream your name. Begging for help, pleading me to let her go. Can you imagine it Sherlock? Her strangled voice calling out to you and you didn't answer. What a pity." He hated the way Moriarty was dragging this torture on. Taunting at every word, every time his finger traced her sweet face.

The camera panned back to Moriarty, who took a seat on an old rusty chair beside Molly's sleeping form. "Maybe I should read her a bedtime story. What do you think? She used to love stories, she told me that once. We were cuddling on the couch, just talking. Her dad always read her books, even when she was all grown up. So precious, doesn't it make you sick. Ordinary things Sherlock, ordinary people. Are just so boring. You and I both know that. Come and play with me. You have six hours. I have no fear that Mrs. Watson will get this video to you in no time."

He stood up and the camera was put into another person's hand. Moriarty took his place beside Molly again, kneeling so his face was right next to hers. "Why don't we wake her up? Hmmm?" Moriarty Placed his mouth close to her ear, so close if he moved a little more, his lips would be touching. "Molly." He sang "Someone wants to see you. Wake up." He started blowing lightly into her ear. Molly started to stir. Fear was plain as day on her face when she woke up. Screaming she tried to jerk back away from him. Sherlock shifted in his seat. She started to whimper. Sherlock could see now that he was gripping her arm tightly. Moriarty's face masked with rage as he twisted his hand. He sprung away and looked into the camera, eyes dark.

"Six hours. And **Sherlock** if I see anyone of your friends or brother come anywhere near this place, She will be dead." The video ended.

Sherlock was going to be sick.

**Hey! So just wanted to Thank everyone for reading and supporting this story! I love all of your comments and reactions :) I know the last chapter was like WHAT?! XD yeah, sorry for that. I don't know if this was better, probably not. Sorry. Hope it wasn't too bad. But I really to appreciate all of your support! 3 **


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay so sorry about the wait on this one, I have been busy lately and only uploaded the stories I had already written. This chapter wasn't fully written until now, so that's why this took a bit longer. But from now on because it's coming to a close this will be updated more regularly. I'm hoping to have chapter 15 up tomorrow if not then the next day for sure. More notes at the end. **

Sherlock dropped both phones onto the table, then ran to the nearest stall in the men's washroom. Throwing up the little food he had eaten. His mind was a whirl wind of thoughts and feelings. He needed to focus! But every time he tried to think of a plan, the image of Molly's scared face pops up. Leaning against the closed stall door, he took a few moments to compose himself. He had to control his feelings and for the first time in years, he wasn't sure if he could.

With shaking hands he threw the stall door open and leaned on the counter, taking a look in the mirror. His eyes showed fear and sadness. Splashing cold water on his face, he fixed himself up to the best of his abilities. If Moriarty got wind of his state, he would surely take advantage of it; thus he had to act indifferent. The way he always does. With a deep breath he left the loo, returning to Anderson who was still on the phone with Mary. He looked up at Sherlock showing concern for him.

Sherlock just sat down and grabbed the phone from him. "Mary?"

"I'm here! What do we do?"

"You do nothing. I must do this alone. You watched that video, he won't hesitate to kill her." His voice wobbled slightly with the last words. "Just stay put, all of you. Don't speak a word of this to anyone. If you hear anything contact me straight away."

"Are you out of your bloody mind!" John butt in. "You can't take on Moriarty by yourself, I won't allow it!"

A faint grimace appeared on the detectives face. "If this was Mary, would you do it alone, if you had to?" He was very quiet.

John took a few beats, then sighed. "Yeah. You be careful now, you hear? I still need my pain the ass best friend around, we all need you."

"I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. I am known to be indestructible." He chuckled, his friend joining him.

"Well that best ring true. I guess I will see you when this is all over?"

"Of course."

There was some rustling about on the other end, no doubt someone else having a go at telling him to be careful. He tapped his foot, eager to find a way to get to Molly as fast as he could.

"Put the bastard in his place." Mary said.

Smiling. "I intend to." He was about to hang up when Mary had one last thing to say.

"Sherlock bring her back to us."

His smile fading as he hit the end call button. He jumped from his seat and strode out the door, Anderson on his heel. "Need to find a way out." He mumbled to himself down the hill that lead to the campsites.

"Sherlock?"

Ignoring him, he just kept mumbling to himself, smacking his face every now and again.

Anderson puffed and for the first time in his life stood up to Sherlock Holmes. "Sherlock!" He yelled, gripping the detectives shoulder and spun him around, so he was facing him. "There's no time for smacking yourself about! Molly's life is at stake and I think we should go to the loading area, Molly obviously didn't get in that car Mycroft sent. So it should still be there or if it's not, it can't be too far away to reach us in time."

He stood frozen, blinking at the man in front of him. The one he always labeled as a bumbling fool, who was stupid and useless. This man who loved him, worshiped the ground he walked on. This man, who he was always cold towards, was the one thing he couldn't be right now. He was calm and thinking clearly. He actually came up with a solution and a quick one. Sherlock's eyes lit up as he smiled. "Brilliant Anderson, your brilliant!" He patted him on the shoulder and made a dash towards the drive way, Anderson keeping up with his pace. He pulled his phone out and tapped on his brothers number. Thankfully it took one ring for him to answer.

"What is it now?" Mycroft's voice rang through. "I would rather you left-"

"Is that car you sent to pick Molly up still here?"

"She's not in it?"

"Something came up, can't explain now, just need an answer." He panted as he ran.

Tapping of some keys were heard and some clicks of a mouse. "He's about to leave in three minutes. I give my drivers a time they need to wait before leaving. Hes been there for over an hour."

"Can't you stop him!"

"Don't be silly, I'm on the phone with you."

"Argh!" He doubled his pace.

"Do you wish me to get off with you and try to get a hold of him?"

"That would be helpful!"

"Fine." with that the call ended.

Sherlock clutched the mobile in his hand as if it were his life line. He had exactly one minute to reach the car. Seeing the loading place, his feet moved faster. A text ran through, Mycroft telling him he couldn't get a hold of the driver. He felt the urge to throw his phone in a fit of anger, but held on not too. He was so close, he saw the black car getting ready to drive away. Jumping over a row of bushes and onto pavement, He ran in front of two cars that honked with the drivers yelling at him. Not letting the black car out of his sight, it slowly started to move. He tried waving his arms about to grab the drivers attention, when that didn't work he wove in between cars that were parked in the visitors parking spaces. So that he could jump out in front of the car in order to stop him.

Anderson must have put his plan together as he shouted from across the lot. "Sherlock!"

Not listening he ran out in front of the car, the drivers eyes going wide as he made a complete stop, just shy from actually hitting him. Sherlock rounded to the drivers side window, and tapped on it. The window rolled down, the driver looking a bit miffed.

"You could have gotten seriously-"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes and I am in need of a ride back to London."

The driver stopped and kept his mouth shut, nodding to the back seat. Anderson jogging up beside the car.

"Get in Anderson, we have very limited time."

* * *

Molly stared at Jim... Moriarty as he impatiently paced the room.

"Where is she?!" He yelled at no one in particular, but his henchmen tried to calm him down.

"Maybe she's just running late, sir."

"Late!"he spat out "She was told not to be late!"

Molly had no idea who he was talking about. As far as she knew he didn't have 'helpers' besides the men he hired to do his dirty work.

"Or she... she got stuck in traffic?" The other squeaked out.

Moriarty sneered at him. "Who asked you!"

"No..no one."

"Very good." He spun around and looked out the big window, tapping his foot.

Molly desperately tried to think of a plan to try to escape. Of course the only plans she could think of were the ones obvious to any kidnapper. But it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

"Jim-"

"Moriarty!" He snapped at her.

She licked her dry lips. "M-Moriarty, I have to go to the washroom."

He laughed. "Nice try." he sang "But I'm not falling for that"

"P-please." She faked stuttered. If he could still believe she was her old self, then maybe he might let her 'go to the washroom' "I-I really h-have to go."

rolling his eyes he turned to face her. His dark eyes burning a hole through her brown ones. "Do you really have to go?" He cocked his head to the side and slowly walked towards her.

"Y-yes." She bit her bottom lip, trying to look as innocent as she could. "I promise I-I'll be good."She clenched her thighs together, scrunching her face up. Hoping he buys it.

It took a couple of minutes for him to decide. "Fine!" He snapped at one of the men at the far end of the room. "Sebastian take her to the bucket out in the next room."

"B-Bucket?" She squeaked.

"Yes, I'm afraid the toilet has been destroyed by who knows what." He waved her away and went back to the window. "A bucket will do fine." He said.

Sebastian held his head down, carefully undoing her hands and feet. She wrapped one hand around her wrist, massaging the skin that was pink. He held a hand out to her, still not looking at her. She placed her small hand in his and she wobbled trying to stand. His other arm immediately coming out to steady her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said quietly. Taking a breath, she walked with him. Her heart started to race when they got out the door. She was so close, if this worked... she could be free and Sherlock wouldn't have to risk his life. They approached a red bucket that stunk. Molly had to cover her mouth and nose to keep from retching.

"Sorry, b-boss wasn't k-kidding about n-no toilet." Sebastian stammered.

She swallowed, slowly standing right in front of it. He kept staring right at her. "Um, could you turn around?"

"Oh! Sorry." He spun round to face the other side of the hall.

She felt like she was going to be sick. Breathing in and out, she looked around hoping for something, anything to hit him over the head with. She can feel bad later about it. Smiling when she saw an iron pipe leaning up against the wall. Very, very carefully she tip toed over, praying to who ever was listening that he wouldn't turn around. Slowly she gripped her hand around the cold object. Lifting it high over her head. Just as carefully as she got to it, she did the same until she was right at his back. Wrapping her other hand around it like a base ball bat, she was about to swing when the other man appeared from the room.

"Hey!"

Molly froze as he came charging at her, Sebastian had turned around trying to get her. She swung with as much force as she could, sending a blow to his side. He winced clutching at it for a second before trying to reach for her again. Molly went for his kneecaps, bringing it down as hard as she could, satisfied when he fell down, holding his knees.

The other man kicked him out of the way and sneered at her. "Come here" He sang. Spitting at her.

Molly flew back almost tipping the bucket over, it sloshed around with whatever bodily fluids were in it. Slowly an idea crept into her mind. She quickly grabbed the bucket and threw the contents at the man. Soaking him in piss. Letting the bucket hit him in the stomach. He was enraged, Molly jumped from one side to the other, as he bent down and flung the bucket over the railing. Hearing it crash to the bottom.

"Bitch your going to pay for that!" He snarled. Flying towards her. She yelped, swinging the bar at his knees as well. He fell instantly, for good measure Molly clunked him on the head until he was out. She ran past him and to the top of the stairs, one foot down, when someone grabbed her arm. She turned and saw Moriarty smiling at her.

"My, my little mouse where do you think your going, hmm?" He gripped her arm tight, digging his nails into her flesh. She cried out as he dug deeper. "Answer me!" She screamed as he shook her. Almost sending her flying down the stairs backwards.

Tears were streaming down her face, she was so scared. His pitch black eyes staring at her, filled with manic rage. Trying to get the bar to hit him, he brought his other arm up and squeezed her wrist until it hurt so much her grip loosened on the bar and it rolled down the steps. He abruptly pulled her to him, she squirmed to try to get away. When she realised there was no use, she turned her head away so she didn't have to see him.

Molly closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her cheek. "I could kill you right now, if I wanted." He laughed. "Sherlock would still come, yes he would find out when he got here, but to see the look on his face when he saw you. Your lifeless body displayed for him. His heart would shatter into a billion little pieces. All because of one woman." He ran a finger up and down the side of her neck, stopping when he found her pulse. "This right here, this little sign that your alive, the pounding. What if it stopped? This is what it would take to break him." He smiled. "One little heart beat"

He wrapped his whole hand around her throat. Adding more and more pressure. Molly started to gasp and choke. His smile widening at her red face. "Yes. I could kill you."

"Now, now. Don't be dull." A woman's voice came from behind them, her heels clicking on each stair as she climbed. "It would be much more entertaining for you to kill her in front of him. Imagine the agony on his little face. Oh, poor dear."

Moriarty's grip loosened a bit, letting air back into her lungs. Her eyes opening at the relief.

"Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know... around. I'm here now aren't I?"

Molly still couldn't see her, the angle he held her at making it impossible.

"So where shall I put my things?"

"The room next to this one."

Without a word her heels clicked away from them and a door slamming shut. He let go of her throat entirely, but not her hand. Molly tried to pull away. Thinking that falling backwards down a flight of stairs is better then being in the hands of him.

"Why do people never learn?" He asked. Yanking her forward.

She tripped and landed on her stomach, almost hitting her face.

"Get up." He ordered.

Molly was too tired and worn out to even try. He leaned down to her level and put his mouth to her ear.

"I said, GET UP!" He screamed. He grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled, her body moving. She screamed in pain. He stopped and let go. "Are you going to be a good girl and get up?"

She slowly got up, almost falling back down, but she was determined to stand on her own. It took a few minutes for her to fully stand, but she lent him a smug expression as she stood there in front of him. "Is this what you wanted?" She couldn't help herself. She wasn't going to pretend to be the little mousy Molly Hooper anymore, she was going to be the real Molly Hooper. The one who might be scared, but she won't go down without a fight.

He gritted his teeth as he yanked her by her arm towards her prison. Once they got to the bed he threw her down and held her in place as he tied the ropes around her wrists and ankles again.

"This should keep you in place. Now don't go anywhere." He chuckled leaving the room.

Molly sank down on the bed, praying that Sherlock would get here soon.

* * *

Moriarty walked over to the men on the floor and kicked them until they both got up. "I didn't hire you to get beat by a woman, now did I?"

"No sir." They both said in unison.

"What's wrong with getting beaten by a woman?"

Moriarty rolled his eyes as Irene's voice cut through. He turned to face her, she was wearing a black cat suit, with black heels, and of course her trademark red lipstick.

"Some men like that sort of thing." She strutted towards them. "Now boys, be little dears and go fetch me some water, I am so thirsty." She purred.

"Right away, Ms. Adler!" They both scurried off in a hurry.

"Well, you seemed to put them in a trance."

"I tend to do that." She examined her bright red nails. "Do you have everything set up?"

"Right down to the t. Sherlock isn't going to know what hit him."

"Oh, I know. Our little detective's in for a pleasant … or rather for him, unpleasant surprise."

Both breaking out in laughter.

* * *

**So I'm being a drama queen and ending it here for now. Like I said if you read my little note before the chapter, that the next one should be up tomorrow or the next day, so it won't be too bad. I know this took (in my opinion) a much darker turn, but that's how it came out. This story actually has changed a lot from my original plans, which is one of the things I love the most about writing is that things change and it's great! I actually am really happy with the way it's turned out and I hope you guys do too! Like always thanks for reading and for all of your lovely comments :) now I am going to type away at the next chapter!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay just a warning this is a pretty short chapter. I am sorry, I didn't really want to end it where I did, but I wanted something out today, as I said in my notes from the last chapter. I just got asked to help out with directing a play this week (which I am extremely excited about) I also have my classes as well, so my schedule is pretty tight and time limited. I wanted to have something before this weekend out. Not to worry if I can get something out before this weekend I totally will. But here is something to hopefully tie you guys over. I'm sorry, again. You guys are so lovely and I hope you understand.**

***More notes at the end***

* * *

Molly closed hers eyes listening to the roaring laughter of Moriarty and his sidekick, coming from out in the hall. Every power in her being knew that Sherlock would come and save her... or at least try. A part of her wanted him to desperately come and take her away from here and another part didn't want him to come for his own safety. She believed in him, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that one of them may not survive this. Of course he survived Moriarty last time with loads of help. Something tells her that because it's her life on the line and not his he isn't going to go around and ask for favors. She knows how it feels when someone you love is in danger. She lived it everyday when Sherlock was gone. Two years.

Thinking back on it Molly didn't know what was worse those two years where she had no idea if he was safe or alive and to now, lying here, tied up, with her life in the hands of a deranged man. At least she knew at that very moment Sherlock was alive. Deciding then and there if it comes to it, Sherlock's life or her own, she knew her answer. "I'd rather be dead then have no life where Sherlock Holmes wasn't around, I love him." She whispered to herself. People do crazy things for the ones they love. He made a vow to protect the Watsons at all costs, she's vowing to protect him.

* * *

Sherlock couldn't help look at the time. Every second he would check the time, look out the window to see how far they've traveled and then repeat. His legs jiggling with impatience, face worried. Anderson kept looking at him, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. His breath became ragged, heart pounding at the thought of what Moriarty could be doing to her, to Molly as he sat idly in a car. He ran a hand over his face, applying pressure to feel something other then all these emotions running through him.

"Do you think he'll hurt Molly?"

Sherlock turned towards Anderson, eyes dark. "He already has!" He spat.

The other man gulped, before continuing his questions. "B-but do you think he will... kill her?" Sherlock's jaw clenched, Anderson hurrying his explanation. "He is a psychopath, he could be lying to you, and when you get there she's-"

He moved over until he was inches away from Anderson's face, looming over him, enraged. "Molly's not dead!" He shouted, yanking him by his collar. "Don't you ever say that, you understand?!"

Scared he just nodded his head, until Sherlock abruptly let go of his shirt, sending him flying into the car window, his rapid breathing the only sound. Sherlock slowly leaned back towards his side of the car, gazing out the window. Letting several moments pass, before speaking. "Moriarty likes games, he wouldn't kill her, won't even try until I get there, all apart of his sick twisted game" He said gravely.

"W-what if he... he does it differently this time. On the video, he seemed like he wanted to, what happens if he snaps and ..." He couldn't finish leaving the last two words unspoken. They didn't need to be said, both knowing what he meant.

"If he does, then he wins."

"What do you mean?"

Sherlock chuckled solemnly to himself. "He wanted to burn the heart out of me, now he gets to finally do it." He took a few beats. "If she's dead when I get there or dies while I'm there, he can have me, I will willingly let him finish me. Because without her there's nothing left."

Anderson waited a while before speaking his mind. "There won't be nothing, there will be John, Mary, Isabelle, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Your brother... me." He said quietly.

He ignored him and placed his head on the cool glass, not really watching outside. Soon falling asleep from emotional exhaustion.

* * *

She could hear footsteps coming into the room, mostly the heels clacking on the floor. Each step this woman took her heels made it known, the clack echoing off the walls and into Molly's ears. Squeezing her eyes tight, she knew when the woman reached her, the silence filling the room.

"What have you done to her face?" She whined. Molly could feel a long finger tracing the outlines of her face. "Such a shame."

"She should have listened." Moriarty said. Molly suspecting he was across the room.

"Open your eyes for me darling." She crooned.

Molly could feel this woman's breath tickling her cheek, as she leaned over her. Squirming she squeezed her eyes tighter.

"Come now, be a good girl and open those precious eyes of yours." She purred. "You don't want me on your bad side." That was a warning, the playful tone gone.

She slowly opened her eyes blinking away the white spots.

"There now, that wasn't so bad was it?" She clutched Molly's chin and forced her to look at her.

Her eyes going wide as she saw who it was. It couldn't be... she was dead. She had laid her out herself, examined her. Could she?

"Ah, you recognize me then? I must have a memorable face."

"Or such a hideous one, people can't help but remember it." Moriarty pitched in.

Rolling her eyes, she got up and scrapped a old rusty chair next to the bed. She leaned her elbows on the mattress, placing her chin on top of her hands. "Irene Adler at your service. I would extend my hand to you, but your a bit tied up at the moment."

"But your dead."

"No, thanks to Sherlock I am quite alive. He does have a soft spot for me."

"Yes, Molly you weren't the first you know." Moriarty smiled walking lazily over to them.

Her eyes dropped down and away from both of them.

"Now don't be mean, you've upset her." Irene cradled her cheek in one hand and soothingly rubbed her thumb. "Poor thing."

Molly flashed back to that night in the morgue when Sherlock asked to see the body, knowing how she was from not her face. Her heart had broken a little. Not that she was petty, because she understood that a woman had died, well not really... she even scolded herself that it wasn't right to be jealous. Someone had indeed held Sherlock's heart first and she was sitting right beside her. Working against him.

"Is that why you want to help him?" Molly asked forcefully.

"I'm sorry?"

She turned towards Irene now, fury on her face. Molly understands better hen anyone what jealousy can do. "Your going to help Moriarty because you think Sherlock loves me. Your enjoying this, aren't you?"

Something flashed across the woman's face and then back to normal. "Don't be silly, I am over him. I am just helping a friend." She looked up at Moriarty then and smiled at him.

"This is boring! I think I'm going to go out for some fresh air, before our visitor arrives." Moriarty said. "Watch _her."_ He gave an icy glare towards Irene before leaving.

It was quite for a few moments, just the sound of their breathing.

"He does love you, you know." Irene spoke quietly, her eyes far away.

"What?"

"Sherlock, he loves you. He's just an idiot who thinks he's doing the right thing, by not acting... well not telling you."

Molly's cheeks went red thinking about the first time she and Sherlock snogged in the tent and their passionate moment up against the tree. She knew he cared for her, but she wasn't so quick to agree with Irene that it was love that he felt.

"Why are you telling me this?" She was curious, kidnappers usually don't try to reassure their victims.

"I loved him, still do. He will never be mine, although he did care for me, maybe he still does. Not in the way he does for you. I see the way he looks at you, his eye always on you, even when your halfway across the room. He always finds you."

"How do you know that? Have you been spying?!"

"Moriarty." She said. She was still looking off in a far away land.

"Can you tell me why your here then, if I'm going to die anyway you might as well tell me."

Irene's head snapped towards hers and she leaned in close. "Oh darling, I don't plan on you dying."

Gulping, Molly tried to sit up, but was forced down by her ropes. "I don't understand." She started to panic thinking about Sherlock and that he was on his way here. "Don't touch him!"

"I wouldn't dream of it." She winked. "But I do plan on getting you out of here safe and alive."

* * *

**Who thought Irene was gunna be trouble? Ah? ah? XD Yep she's playing Moriarty! Ha,ha,ha. Next chapter is where all the action happens, I was hoping this chapter was going to be the action packed one, but life got in the way and it didn't. Like I said not to worry, next chapter shiz is about to go down! Thanks for reading and like always your lovely comments and reactions brighten my day! :D**


	16. Chapter 16

"What?" Molly was shocked, Irene wanted her safe and alive?

Irene rolled her eyes and examined her long devil red nails. "I don't have time for this, we don't have long." She said, quickly untying Molly's wrists and ankles. "Now when your free, go as far away as you can, don't come back"

Molly rubbed at her raw skin, and finally sat up, mesmerized by how skillfully Irene undid the ropes. Irene must have noticed, after she undid the last ankle she winked. "How are you-"

"I've had plenty of practice." She searched the room for Molly's shoes, one was under the bed, the other half way across the room. Irene handed them to her. "Quickly!" She urged, when Molly just held them.

As fast as she could, Molly slipped her shoes on. Irene kept running back and forth between the doorway and to her. In case Moriarty came back. Molly stood up shaking, she tried to walk, but stumbled, Irene catching her fall.

"Careful kitten, you've been tied up and god knows how exhausted you've made yourself with that award winning show you put on." Irene found a bottle of water and lifted it to Molly's lips. "Drink" She ordered. Molly obeyed and gulped the cool liquid down her dry throat. Checking her over to make sure she was okay, Irene lead her out of the room and into the hallway, down the stairs, as quickly as possible. Molly tried her best not to stumble, thankfully Irene kept her up. She stopped at the door and looked at her. "Now run!" She tried to push her out the door, but Molly wouldn't budge. "What are you doing?! Go!"

"What about Sherlock? He's coming here for me, he's putting his life in danger for-"

"You, yes I get it. Don't you think he would rather you be safe, then to find out he went all this way for nothing!" Irene was getting antsy, looking out at the drive and down the road.

"I can't leave Sherlock, I won't!"

"Uh!" Irene groaned. "You can, and you will!" She gripped Molly's wrist tightly and dragged her out of the abandoned house.

"Let me go!" Molly yanked with all her might. "He needs me!"

"He needs you alive!"

Molly stopped her struggles and stood there like a statue. "I need him alive." She spoke softly.

Irene loosened her grip, and made Molly look at her. "What do you think would happen to Sherlock if you got hurt or died? He wouldn't be able to take it, he loves you too much. Where Sherlock Holmes is considered, you are the priority and if something were to happen to you Molly, he would punish himself. You and I both know that."

She looked down at her feet, tired and sore, she really thought about what Irene said. She's right, Sherlock would hurt himself a thousand times over and it still wouldn't be enough in his eyes. She thought of the pain it would cause him, if something did happen to her. "You're right." Was all she said.

"Good, now that, that is settled, let's get a move on we haven't all day!" She gave a little push to Molly and waited for her to run, so that's what she did, she ran.

As Molly's figure disappeared into the forest, Irene ran back into the house slamming the door. Upstairs she supplied herself with the right equipment. Knives and guns in hidden places, she wasn't stupid, this wasn't going to end without blood shed this time. Going into the room beside Molly's prison, she made sure everything was in order, the machine that had a power to blow this place up until it was just rubble and ashes, was displayed right in the center. With shaking hands, Irene held her breath as she pushed the red button in the center, the count down began, one hour. "Better be quick Mr. Holmes." She whispered, as she sat down in a rusty folding chair, in front of the ticking machine. "Better be quick."

* * *

Anderson jostled Sherlock awake when they were rounding their destination. He blinked his eyes awake, as he observed the area. Nothing out of the ordinary, but then again Moriarty was always brilliant at cover ups. When the car stopped Sherlock, ripped open the car door, Anderson not far behind. Upon hearing the other man's footsteps, Sherlock rounded on him. "No! Get back in the car now!"

"I'm not leaving you to fend for yourself." Anderson stood his ground.

"Oh, for god's sake! Molly is in there waiting for me to get her out! And you want to play hero! Moriarty said no one, that includes you."

Anderson looked down at the ground and moved the pebbles with his shoes. "What about you."

"What about me?" Sherlock snarled.

"Who's going to save you?"

Sherlock's eyes softened. "No one, I don't need saving Anderson. I'm not worthy of it" Was all he said before running into the big house. Leaving Anderson outside, all alone.

"Oi! You coming?" The car driver yelled from the window. Anderson slowly turned to answer when he was yanked into the overgrown bushes. The driver getting impatient with no reply, got out of the car and furrowed his brows when there was no one in sight. "I must be losing my mind." He said to himself before driving away.

* * *

Carefully taking the steps two at a time, Sherlock knew how to maneuver in this place. After all he spent many a night, high here. He ran into the room, where he knew Molly was. His stomach dropping, when he notices it empty. "No." He whispers, He lunges for the bed, with the untied ropes. Sherlock picked them up and carefully examined them, looking everywhere for clues, any clues. He spun around the room, around and around. He was in a whirl wind trying to make sense of where she could be. His breath heavy, mind overcrowded with thoughts of her. He only stopped when he heard a click of a gun, coming from the other room. He bolted into the next room, coming to a halt, when he sees, The Woman.

"Hello, Sherlock. Long time no see."

* * *

John was pacing back and forth furiously, mumbling to himself. Mary was rocking Isabelle in her arms trying to calm the baby down, looking worriedly at her husband. "John, everything's going to be okay. He's going to get Molly and himself out of there." She spoke soothingly, as she rubbed her daughters back.

Mrs. Hudson was weeping softly in the corner, being comforted by the DI. Mary tried her best not to cry, she had to be strong for them. She knew this was serious, there would be no way out for Sherlock this time, he had to go in and try his best to stay alive.

"I can't!" John stopped abruptly. "I can't just sit here and do nothing!" He narrowed his eyes at his wife.

She gave a little giggle. "Well, I wouldn't call pacing the room, sitting."

"This is no time for humor, Mary! For Christ sake, our friends are in danger! Doesn't that bother you!" Oh, John was angry, she knew not at her, but at the situation. She was just someone to put his frustrations on.

Greg, stood up and took Izzy from Mary and started to rock her, walking into the other room.

"You think I don't care? Do you think I want to be here laying dormant, while Sherlock is out there risking his life to save the one he loves! Molly..." She trailed off pinching the bridge of her nose, praying that the tears won't fall, but she couldn't hold off any longer.

John softened and strode towards her, embracing her in a hug. "I'm sorry" He whispered into her neck. "I'm sorry."

A few minutes later Greg, came walking out, shutting the door behind him softly. Standing in the middle of the sitting room, staring at the couple. "Well, what are we waiting for! Let's go save Sherlock Holmes' ass."

John and Mary, both looked at each other and smiled.

"Well, go on then." Mrs. Hudson said. "I'll take care of the baby."

"But who will protect you?" John asked.

Mrs. Hudson laughed as she put a hand in her bra, and pulled out a handgun. "Oh, I think I'll be just fine, dear." She smiled sweetly.

"Yeah, alright... let's go." John said, looking at his old landlady in shock. She always pulled surprises out on him.

Mary nodded, running to their safe quickly putting in the code. She loaded up all different kinds of guns, handing a few to John and a few to Greg.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side. "Greg joked. As he placed a gun into his breast pocket.

Each of them slipped an array of knives into little crevices, for extra protection. Once they were all armored up, John went and kissed Mrs. Hudson's forehead, before running out the door with the others.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, slowly approaching, where she sat.

"I don't know, you're the master of deductions, you tell me." She crossed her arms.

He looked behind her and saw the bomb, counting down, forty minutes remaining. His eyes finding their way back to her. "You're in on it, with _him,_ aren't you?" He snarled.

She didn't lend an answer, just gazed at her nails. "Aren't you?!" He was looming over her, face enraged, trying to control his anger.

Irene shrugged.

"Where is she?!"

"Where is who?" Irene fiend ignorance.

"I don't have time for games!"

"Neither do I, Mr. Holmes."

In his panic, he didn't realise, that she made no move to attack him. "You're not attacking me, why?" He narrowed his gaze.

"Thought you would have worked that out yourself." She placed her right leg over her knee and bounced her foot.

"You're not really working for Moriarty, are you?"

"No, I'm not. He thinks I am, but I'm not." She moved her tongue around, making her cheek protrude a tad.

Sherlock began pacing the room. "There was no signs of struggle in the other room with the ropes, they were untied carefully, your sitting here not making any moves... you let her go." he stopped and looked into Irene's eyes. "but why, what's in it for you?"

"Nothing." She stood up and walked towards him. "Just repaying a debt. I also don't like to see the big prey on the weak. "She smiled.

"You live for that."

"Maybe I do, may I don't. What does it matter to you? I saved your little pet, can't we just be done with it."

He took a moment to really look at her to find more information, but saw she was telling the truth. "How did you convince her."

"I'm sorry?"

"Molly. How did you convince her to leave."

"Simple, you. I told her if something were to happen to her you would never forgive yourself. Which is the truth. You wouldn't be able to handle it, Sherlock. It would be best if you died, then her."

"You're right." He said softly.

Two clicks of multiple guns came from the door way. "Oh, how precious." Moriarty crooned. "Really, I'm touched. The Woman and the detective working together to save poor Molly Hooper. The love of Sherlock's life. It's just like out of a children's show, nothing like friendship!"

Irene went to move to retrieve a weapon, but Moriarty tisked. He shoved Anderson in the room, a gun man had a gun directly to his head. Sherlock groaned. "Anderson" He spit.

"Found this one outside, standing right in the doorway."

Anderson mouthed sorry, as Sherlock placed a hand on his forehead, letting it slide down slowly.

"Make any moves, and my friend Sebastian here will pull the trigger. We also won't hesitate to pull the trigger." Moriarty motioned between himself and the other man.

Sherlock glared at Irene, gesturing her to hand over her weapons. She slowly, took each hidden weapon and dropped them in front of her, widening her eyes at Moriarty, when he waited for her to produce more. "I don't have anymore."

"Search her!" Two more men emerged from behind him and patted her down.

"Hey! Watch it, I am a lady."

Moriarty scoffed. "Yes, your such a good girl. Pat him too. When you're done, tie them all up. I can't wait to watch you all blow up together." Moriarty, waited until all three of them were tightly bound, by rope and crept around them. "Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posy." he whispered into their ears. "Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down." He pointed to the bomb, which now read twenty five minutes. Laughed then skipped out of the room, yelling behind him. "It was great fun knowing you Sherlock!"

Irene squirmed under her binds.

"You'll tire yourself out, it's no use." Sherlock said

"Well, we have to try something! We can't just sit here and let that thing blow up!"

"You're the one who set it up!"

"Oh, bring that up now!" Irene shouted into his ear. "Hardly seems fair, since I'm here to help you anyway."

"Some help." Sherlock grumbled. "I'm just as tied up as you are." he glared.

"I got Molly away!"

That shut Sherlock up, he turned away from her. "Thank-you." He said quietly.

"What?"

"I didn't say it before, thank-you, for saving Molly."

Anderson, started to sweat.

"You're welcome." Irene said

"At least she's far away from here."

Anderson gave a high pitch nervous laugh. Both Sherlock and Irene looked towards him. "Something the matter?" Irene asked.

"No." His voice went up an octave. "Nothing."

Sherlock stared daggers at him. "Anderson." He warned.

Anderson started to hyperventilate and burst into tears. "Oh, forgive me Sherlock! I told her, I did, that it was a bad idea... she wouldn't listen." He begged.

"She?"

"M-M-Molly." He stuttered.

"What do you mean, Molly?" Irene asked. Leaning over as far as her bonds would let her.

"She, she..."

"Just say it!"

"She isn't far away! She's still here!"

Sherlock and Irene's mouths flew open. "What?" They spat at the same time.

The nervous man just avoided their gaze.

"Tell me everything!" Sherlock demanded.

* * *

_Anderson was about to turn to tell the driver he was ready to go, when a small hand grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him into the bushes. "Ow!" He cried as he rubbed his arm, where the person grabbed him._

"_Shhhh." Molly hissed. He went to say something, but Molly covered his mouth with her petite hand. She waited until the driver drove away, before removing it._

"_What are you doing here! You're suppose to be in there!" Anderson pointed to the house._

"_I was, Irene set me free."_

"_If she set you free, why are you here?! Run!" Anderson went to pull her up, but she forcefully yanked him back down._

"_I'm not leaving Sherlock!" She yelled quietly._

"_But he wants-"_

"_Yes. I know!" She peeked her head out of the bushes, just far enough to get a good glimpse of anyone who might be going by. She turned back to him. "I can't leave him, I won't. Whether that puts me in danger or not. So don't try to talk me out of it."_

"_Okay." He held up his hands in defeat. "Why are you out here in the bushes."_

"_Irene thinks I ran into the forest, over there." She pointed in the direction of the forest. Anderson nodded, in understanding._

"_Why did you drag me in the bushes?"_

"_I need your help."_

"_With what?"_

"_I need someone to distract Moriarty, while I sneak inside, unnoticed."_

_Anderson, swallowed, yanking at his collar. "Alright."_

* * *

"So we waited for Moriarty to arrive and that's when I jumped out and ran to the door, waiting for them to find me there. They then took me and brought me up here, where... well you know the rest."

"So, Molly is in here... somewhere?" Irene asked.

Sherlock just stared frozen at Anderson, looking like he was far away.

"Yes." He looked down, ashamed he didn't force Molly to run away when he had the chance. "Please forgive me, I only wanted to do what was right." he pleaded.

"Hush!" Irene, said. They both looked at Sherlock, who still hadn't moved, his eyes glazed over. "Poor dear, I think he's in shock. Best not to bother him." Irene said, going back to work on trying to get loose.

* * *

John sped through the streets of London, trying to reach the drug den, where he had found Sherlock just a couple of months ago. Greg was in the back sliding left from right, to right to left. His body slamming into the the car doors. Mary was gripping onto the handle for dear life, John too busy to get to his friends, to notice how fast he really was going.

"You should have put your seat belt on." Mary yelled from the front.

Greg laughed. "look who's talking, I'm not the one with a baby at home."

Mary just laughed as John took a sharp corner and hit a bump, rocking the car. "Well, like Mrs. Hudson always says, live and let live."

* * *

It has been five minutes since Sherlock has said anything, Irene too busy trying to work herself out to care, and Anderson silently crying for what he did. When he finally uttered one word "Molly."

Irene stopped squirming and Anderson stopped crying to look at him. "He speaks!" Irene declares.

"Sherlock?" Anderson asks nicely.

At that moment two men come strolling in, guns in their hands, sneering at them.

One of them laughed. "Look at this, the great Sherlock Holmes, tied up. Isn't it a beautiful sight?"

"It sure is." The other one agreed.

Sherlock gave them a death glare. "Moriarty still hires idiots I see."

The bigger one clicked his gun and walked straight up to Sherlock, pointed it to his head. His breathing heavy.

"Go ahead, do it, I'm going to die anyway." He nodded his head in the direction of the ticking bomb.

The goon, looked over Sherlock's shoulder. "Fifteen minutes."

"So go ahead, shoot me." He dared him.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Irene butt in. "Wouldn't you much rather wait for him to be blown to smithereens, then shoot him in the head. I mean, come on how boring is that and Moriarty doesn't like boring. He likes innovation, so either paint all of us with his brains now or wait to paint whatever it paints when he blows up."

"That was very intelligent." Sherlock remarked to her.

"Was it? I did like it..."

"Nope." Sherlock pooped the p, smiling. "You lost it at the end."

"I did, didn't I?"

The man who held the gun, looked back and forth between the two. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop talking?" Irene asked. "That hardly seems fair, here we are about to be blown up and we can't speak?"

Suddenly the man who held the gun fell forwards and onto Irene's lap, his gun going off shooting the window to pieces. All three captives looked up and found John and Greg in the door way. Greg, blew on his smoking gun, leaning against the door frame. "Looks like you could use some back up."

* * *

Molly crawled along the dark hallway, she found a gun that was laid down and must have been forgotten. She checked to make sure that there was ammo and there was, it was full. She had some glass in her knee caps, making her wince, as she made her way. But she wasn't going to let that stop her, she needed to get to Sherlock and make sure he was safe. She almost screamed when she heard a gun go off and hearing glass shatter. Her heart beat a mile a minute.

She had to stop and catch her breath, worry eating away at her. Putting on a brave front, as she continued her journey. She stopped again when she heard laughter from a closed door, it sounded like Moriarty. Molly stood up and tip toed to the door and pressed her ear against it.

"I can't wait to watch him blow up. I have been waiting for over two years to end Sherlock Holmes. Unfortunately my first attempt didn't work, because of that... bitch and that brother of his. Not to worry, everything is going to turn out fine this time." Moriarty said.

She heard footsteps getting closer, she quickly, ran into the shadows behind a pillar and watched him and three men come out and laugh as they walk towards the front door. Molly pulled her gun out, slowly clicking it into place, creeping along the dirty floors, accidentally stepping on a creaky floorboard she stopped, frozen to the spot. Luckily, the men were too busy laughing too hear. She looked to her right and saw a figure, across from her.

Turning her head to the side, she could make out that it was... Mary?! Mary must have noticed Molly, because she turned her head on an angle as well. The two women, just stared at each other for a moment, guns pointed towards their mutual targets. The moon moved, lending light to the darkness, streaming in through the windows. Molly could see Mary's face clearly now.

She mouthed "Mary?"

Mary mouthed back, "Molly?"

They both looked bewildered to find one another.

"What are you doing here?" Molly mouthed

Mary scrunched up her face and put her arms up in question, for good measure she mouthed, "What?"

"What" Molly put her arms up in question as well, trying some charades out. "Are" Exaggerating her arms. "You" She pointed to her. "doing here" She mouth and waved her open hands about.

Mary shook her head and crept backwards into the darkness, so the chatting men, wouldn't catch her as she crawled to Molly's side. "I didn't understand a thing you were saying." She whispered.

"What are you doing here?" Molly whispered back.

"You know, save the day and all." She casually waved her gun around.

"What about Isabelle?"

"Oh, she's fine. Mrs. Hudson's watching her."

Molly nodded her head. "Do you know where Sherlock is?"

"No. The boys and I split up, they went upstairs I went down."

Molly bit her lip, worryingly. "Okay."

"It'll be fine, if we don't find Sherlock then they will. Yeah?" Mary smiled and rubbed her friends shoulder to comfort her.

She tried not to sniffle, as she grimaced.

"Now, let's give Moriarty what he deserves, shall we?" Mary, walked carefully towards the group of men, but had to jump back against the wall when running foot steps from up stairs were heard. Moriarty and his gang turned to look.

Irene dragged Greg down the steps with her, trying to move as fast as she could. "You know I'm not really into the whole damsel in distress kind of thing, but I find it incredibility sexy right now." She purred as she bounded down the stairs.

Greg went to reply, when they were met face to face with three guys at the bottom of the stairs. "Shit!" He muttered. He tried to pull his gun out, but he fumbled and it fell down the stairs, right at their enemy's feet.

They laughed as the middle man bent down and picked it up. He cocked it and placed his finger on the trigger. "Any last words?"

"How about fuck off?" Molly said as she shot the man and then the other two, before they could react.

Standing like a statue, Greg had his eyes wide looking at the three dead men piled on the floor. Then looked up at the pissed off pathologist, waiting for him and Irene to come down. Irene pulled him down with her as they jumped to avoid stepping on the dead.

"You've got real guts, Miss. Hooper, real guts." Irene said before running out the door.

"T-thanks" Greg said before following after her.

She looked up at the stairs, knowing that's where Sherlock was. She placed her hand on the railing.

"Go." Mary said. Molly turned to look a her. "I'll track down Moriarty and the other man. Find Sherlock and John." With that the other woman, turned on her heels and out the door.

Taking a breath, Molly started to climb the stairs, at first slowly, but then as fast as she could. She was so busy trying to get to Sherlock, she didn't notice him, standing at the top, watching her. So, naturally she plowed right into him, almost falling back, but Sherlock caught her.

"Thank god." John sighed, seeming like he was letting out a breath, for the first time that night.

"Molly?" Sherlock, helped her up the last step and caressed her cheek. "You're safe, you're alive." He whispered, eyes bright.

She smiled as she lightly touched her finger tips to his cheek.

"Okay! Alright, you found each other, great! Splendid! Now can we leave before the bomb goes off or...?"

"Bomb?"

"Yes, there is a bomb in that room there." Sherlock pointed, while grabbing hold of her hand to descend the staircase, John right behind them. They got down in record time, reaching the door, Sherlock banged it open, seeing John and Mary's car at the far end of the road. Where Mary, Greg, Anderson and Irene were already inside and waiting for them. John ran, when he saw his wife, eyes alight.

Molly, looked up at Sherlock and smiled, Sherlock winked and ran ahead as well, waiting for her to start. Molly was about to start off in a run when someone grabbed her from behind and held her in place. "Now, you didn't think you could get away that easily, did you?" He whispered into her ear, as he held his free hand over her mouth to stifle her screams. He dragged her back inside the house.

Mary screamed, watching the horror unfold as Molly's body was dragged into the house by Moriarty. John stopped dead in his place, his heart dropping as he looked back at Sherlock who was already booting it back inside. He went to follow his friend, when Mary stopped him. "John! Let him go, that way he only needs to worry about Molly."

It took everything in him to not go in and after his best friend, so he just stood there glued to the spot watching the closed door.

* * *

**Well, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter very much! So I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it! I just had to get John, Mary, and Greg involved, because lets face it, they never in a million years would let Sherlock go without back up ;) I tried to make this as suspensefulish as I could as well as some action in there. It is my first time writing something like this, so hope I did okay! Let me know what you guys thought! Thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

Moriarty dragged Molly into the house and inside a closet with slitted blinds. As Sherlock was making his way in, Moriarty kept a tight hand on her mouth, while his other wrapped around her body. Molly tried to cry when she saw Sherlock run straight past them, but Moriarty's hand stifled it.

"Shut up!" He snarled. "It'll all be over soon. Hush now." He unhooked his arm from around her waist and stroked her cheek.

She shut her eyes tight, shivering at his touch. They heard Sherlock's rapidly moving foot steps above them. He laughed opening the closet door and lead her up stairs. "Let's surprise him, shall we?" Molly tried to wiggle free, but he had his death grip on her once again. He carefully navigated himself and her up the steps.

Luckily for Molly, he stepped on a creaky stair that made him loosen his grip. She tore herself away tripping and falling face first on the stairs. "Sherlock!" She yelled.

"Molly!" Sherlock screamed, running to the top of the staircase.

Moriarty got his barrings back and took hold of her hair. She winced as he flung her back by the long strands. "Don't move! Or something not so nice will happen to Molly"

Sherlock stood frozen at the top of the stairs. "Don't hurt her! It's me you want, let her go"

"Na-uh, I don't think so" He sang. "She's the key, baby. Now papa wouldn't want to lose that now would he?" He bent down and placed his cheek against hers. She whimpered, which made him angrier, so he yanked harder.

"Please" She cried out in pain.

"Stop this!" Sherlock shouted. "She means nothing to me! I promise you."

"If she means nothing then why are you here?"

"Because I owe her. She saved my life once, I am merely returning the favor." His voice indifferent.

Moriarty chuckled "Oh, that's clever. Where's your originality! Owing people favors Sherlock, it's not really your thing. Nice try though. Just five more minutes and we'll all go... KABOOM!"

Turning her head away from him, Molly saw a broken, jagged piece of wood, sticking out from the bannister. She held her breath.

"What kind of fun is that?" Sherlock asked

"Sorry?"

"All of us? Gone, you won't get to see everyone's reaction to your brilliant plan. You and I both know, it's no fun to be dead."

Slowly lifting her arm, she reached for the broken wood.

"Let Molly go. I'll stay and die. You will have everything you want. A broken heart. You and I both know that's what she'll have if I die. You will have succeeded in tearing the heart out of someone."

She stopped and whipped her head up at Sherlock. How dare he make that choice for her! He had no right. She was about to speak, but was cut off by Moriarty.

"Ah, but the plan was never to rip Molly's heart apart. Oh no, it has always been you." He smiled and reached for something in his pocket, producing a knife. "I will get everything I have ever wanted Sherlock. To see the look on your face, when I kill her." He grabbed the bottom of her chin and stuck the knife's point at her jugular.

Sherlock's jaw clenched. "I don't care, kill her!" His voice shook. He tried his best at pretending it didn't bother him. He watched as Moriarty dug slowly into her skin. Molly cringing, trying her best not to scream at the pain. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, praying to a god he didn't believe in that this would stop. At the first sign of blood he couldn't take it "NO!" His scream shook the old house.

Moriarty laughed his head off as he took the blade away, licking the blood off with his snake like tongue. "No? I thought you didn't care. Well then, I guess you will mind after all... if I do this!" Without a second thought, he stuck the knife into her neck.

She gasped as the pain hit her, her breaths uneven as she gagged at the blood that filled her lungs. She sat up when Moriarty let her go, clinging to the broken banister in desperate need for air. The pain unlike anything she's ever experienced.

"Molly" Sherlock spoke softly, eyes soft then turning cold as ice. He lunged towards Moriarty and punched him over and over in the face with his rage. He just laughed as Sherlock's blows hit him, one by one.

Molly tried to speak, but all that came out of her mouth was blood. She was feeling weaker and weaker as the seconds flew by. Her nails digging into the wood, needing to fight, to survive for him. She watched as Sherlock's large hands wrapped themselves around Moriarty's neck, the strain in Sherlock's face as he asphyxiated him with as much pressure as possible. Moriarty's face red as the devil himself, she saw his hand reaching for something, a needle. Her eyes flew open and heart beat faster. She stood up shaking, tried to reach out to Sherlock. Unable to keep her balance, she fell down the bit of stairs and hit the ground. Her ears rang with the sound of Sherlock's cries as her eyes closed.

"Molly!" Sherlock yelled. "Molly! Can you hear me?" His vice like hands loosening just enough for Moriarty to jab the needle into Sherlock's arm. Sherlock looked down and felt the rush that hit him like nothing else. "No" he whispered.

Smiling Moriarty choked out his last words as Sherlock strangled him. "Heroine is your favorite, is it not?"

Sherlock allowed Moriarty's head to drop and took one last look at the man lying dead. His senses tingling with the drug flowing through him. He felt lighter almost forgetting where he was, almost. Fighting off the pleasant sensation from the drug, he bolted down the steps to Molly. Kneeling, he placed her head in his lap. "Molly. Wake up, please." He held his hand to her bleeding wound. Thankful that Moriarty missed her jugular by a couple of inches. Tears started to well up in his eyes as he pressed a kiss to her cold forehead. "Please, Please for me. One thing that's all I ask." he looked up at the ceiling. "I understand if you don't want to help me, I haven't been kind to you, I don't even know if I believe in you... but people seem to. You didn't help Redbeard, because you couldn't, it was his time I understand that now. But it's not her time," The tears started to fall. "She has a whole life not lived! she needs to live. One miracle that's all I ask, please if not for me, then for her." He dropped his head back down to kiss her, tasting blood as he did, not caring in slightest. "I love you" He repeated over and over like a mantra against her lips. "Please." He cradled her face into the crook of his neck and rocked her.

Stilling when he felt her breath against his skin. He smiled as he saw her eyes flutter, but she wasn't strong enough to open them. "Molly" Knowing he had less then two minutes to get them both out, he picked her up trying to be as gentle as he could and ran out the doors. Sherlock could see John running towards them "Get back John!" He yelled. He could see John stop but didn't move. "Now!" At that John sprinted back to the car and a few seconds later the car sped away. Frantically he looked around. Spotting the forest, he ran as fast and as far as he could into the trees. As the ground rumbled from the blast, Sherlock placed Molly down and covered himself over her. Feeling the rubble hit his backside.

He closed his eyes as he felt the faint heart beat beneath him. Placing his lips against her forehead, he whispered "Thank you".

She's still alive.

* * *

"Now!" John gritted his teeth as he bolted back to the car, leaving his best friend and Molly behind him. He could tell Mary wasn't in a good state, she sat frozen at the wheel looking ahead. "Mary. Quickly, the bomb is going to go off any second now." He tried to speak as calmly as he could.

"W-what about Sherlock and Molly?" Anderson asked timidly.

Irene sighed in the middle of the backseat. "Do I have to do everything around here?" Moving as fast as lightening she dived down head first and placed her hand on the accelerator.

John grabbing hold of the wheel, the car speeding away from the danger. Seconds later the bomb went off, sending pieces of the house flying. They could hear the down pour of wood hit the car roof. Everyone sat still, all listening to the tinny sound each piece made as it made contact with the metal.

Irene was the first to move. Slinking back into her seat in between, a very tired looking Lestrade and silently crying Anderson. Even she felt the weight of the situation as she mimicked Mary's blank stare ahead.

Taking a breath, John turned to look at his wife. His heart breaking, when he watched one single tear trail down her cheek, splashing her red coat. "Mary" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

Mary stirred at his touch. She couldn't bear to face him, not now.

"Mary please, look at me." Her reluctance fueling his anger about what he had just done. He left them there, to be blown up. Sherlock once said _'it takes me to solve your murder, but John Watson to save your life'_ How wrong he had been. John was like anyone else, a coward. He took saving Mary, Irene, Anderson, Greg and himself. Instead of saving the man who had saved his life five years ago. His best friend, and Molly... she didn't deserve this. There could have been time! If he helped Sherlock carry Molly, maybe... "LOOK AT ME!" He screamed, gripping onto the dash board.

Everyone in the car turned their attention towards him, even Mary.

"Now you're all going to listen. We are turning this car back around and all of us, and I mean a_ll_ of us," He looked at Irene, who batted innocent eyes. "are going to search for Sherlock and Molly. Got that?"

With a nod of her head, Mary hit the pedal and sped back down to the house in ruins.

* * *

Seeing the car back at the end of the drive, Sherlock ran with Molly in his arms. John and Mary, ran out of the car, not bothering to close the doors and made their way towards him.

"John! It's Molly..." His voice hoarse.

"Jesus." John saw the blood running through Sherlock's hands, that were applying pressure to her wound. "Set her down." When Sherlock didn't move John yelled "Now!" Mary removed her coat, placing it on the ground for Molly's comfort. "I'm going to need both of your scarves." Quickly as possible, the scarves were given to him and John went to work.

Ten minutes later the ambulance arrived, While John was working on Molly, Greg had called 999. They strapped her in the bed with monitors attached to her. One of the paramedics tried to look at Sherlock, but he refused their help, yelling at them to attend to Molly. When the time came to speed off to the hospital, Sherlock hopped in, holding her hand the whole way there. Never taking his eyes off of her.

* * *

Sherlock's shoes squeaked as he paced back and forth in the hall. They wouldn't let him in, he wasn't immediate family. He scratched at the dark bruise on his arm, he was coming off his high, he itched for more. In order to distract himself and the need for fix, he ran his hands through his hair trying to grip onto to reality. John, Mary, Greg and Anderson arrived half an hour later. No surprise the woman didn't show up, he never expected her to anyway.

He was quick to shrug off John's reassurances, Willingly ignored Mary's sweet calming voice to his raging thoughts. He needed to see Molly and fast!

Hours later, Mycroft came waltzing in unexpectedly. His umbrella swinging in time to his step. "How is he?" Sherlock heard him ask John.

"Not well... they won't let him see her."

"I see. Will she live?"

"Their uncertain at this point. Fifty-fifty chance."

He knew Mycroft just nodded at this information. Not caring that it was someone he knew... kind of. It made Sherlock sick. Is that all people do in hospitals? Talk about everyone as a bloody statistic! She is not just a probable roll of the dice, she was a human with a brain, a set of lungs, a heart... she was Molly.

It took him a while to notice the cup of coffee stuck out at him. Upon looking up at the person, he saw it was Anderson. "Thanks" he mumbled.

"She's going to be alright Sherlock. She's Molly."

He snapped his head back up at him. Yes, he was trying to make him feel better, feel hopeful that she will live, but instead of telling him what the charts read, he told him who she was. He smiled. She was Molly Hooper, a strong force to be reckoned with that would take a thousand armies to take her down. He's always underestimating Anderson.

He got closer to Sherlock and pulled out a tiny card. "I got this for you. Swiped it from the front desk."

Sherlock looked at the card, blinking rapidly. Is that? It couldn't be...

"It's the card to Molly's room. Thought I'd get it for you... so you could see her."

Looking at him with wide eyes, he reached out a trembling hand, almost dropping the most precious gift he had ever received. "You stole it?"

Anderson looked sheepishly away. "I read that post on your blog, the art of pick pocketing. In this case it was desk pocketing..."

"Well done." Patting Anderson on the back he caught a glimpse of John, Mary, Lestrade and Mycroft in a conversation. Brilliant time to make his exit.

Anderson waited until all he saw, was the tail of Sherlock's coat when he turned the corner, before heading over to the close knitted group. John was the first to notice Sherlock missing.

"Where's Sherlock? I could have sworn he was there," He pointed to where Anderson just was. "a minute ago."

"Don't know" Anderson shrugged.

John deciding not to dig into it further let it go, but eyed Anderson suspiciously.

* * *

Sherlock held his breath as he entered the darkened room. He didn't dare turn on a light, just opened the blinds a tad to allow the moonlight to shine through. He sat on the chair right next to her side. Closing his eyes at the pain he felt when he looked at her. Pale as day, on all kinds of machines because of him. Plain and simple it was his fault. He allowed his emotions to get the better of him. Stupid, stupid! Of course Moriarty would have figured it out. Oh, and Sherlock played willingly into his hands. Now Molly is here, in this hospital bed. If he just restrained himself... willed himself to ignore the way she made him feel. It would have been torture yes, but nothing could hurt as much as this, nothing. She was always better off without him, always.

Wasn't she the one who stood there and called him out on all the horrible things he said to her. Slapped him because of his idiocy with the drugs. She must have known all along that one day Sherlock's lifestyle would get to her in the worst possible way,and it had. This should make her see now, that there is no life with him, only pain. They barely touched upon a relationship before Moriarty took it away. Who knows what could happen if they actually got together.

Placing his hand on top of hers, he started to hum a tune. Slowly, she began to stir. Sherlock allowed his tune to die off hoping Molly would wake up, needing to see those big brown eyes. She took her hand out from under his and wiped at her eyes, before thrashing about. "Sherlock!, Sherlock!"

He jumped from the chair and sat on the side of her bed. "I'm here, Molly you're safe. I'm here." He whispered, running his hands through her hair. "Shhh, you're safe."

Tears began to fall from her eyes, she brought her hand up to rest on his cheek. "Kiss me... please"

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, didn't he just have a self talk session minutes ago, about the dangers he imposes on her. Without letting logic enter, he leaned down and met her lips. She winced slightly but paying no mind, pressed her lips against his. Sherlock was very careful not to hit any of the multiple tubes hooked up to her, as he laid a hand beside her head on the pillow. Molly urged his mouth open and slid her tongue against his. His senses buzzing with electricity as their tongues danced in perfect harmony. She was everything he was not. Sweet, kind, caring and gentle. She was the light to his dark, his everything.

He could tell she was getting tired, so he pulled away first. He knew she never would and she needed her rest. They were both breathless as they stared at each other. Even with all of the pain she experiencing, she still smiled up at him. Always the strong one.

"Thank-you" Molly said, placing her hand in his.

He smiled down at her. "Molly, you have no idea how-"

The door to the room banged open. "What the hell are you doing in here?!" The nurse flipped the light on and stomped towards Sherlock. "You don't have clearance to see this patient. I need you to leave." She wrapped her hand around Sherlock's arm and hauled him up off the bed.

Molly began to cry again. "No! Please, I want him to stay... _I need him_."

"Sorry Miss, rules are rules. He can't stay, you need you're rest." She glared daggers at Sherlock. "He will be able to see you soon. For now he has a lot of explaining to do, like how he got in a locked room?" She started to drag Sherlock away, when Molly's screams filled the room.

Sherlock was at her side in an instant. "Molly" He whispered, placing a hand on her cheek.

"_Please don't make him go... please_" She gripped his arm tight. Scared to let go. Her sobs wracking her shoulders.

He carefully pulled her to him and rubbed her back. "It's alright Molly, every things going to be okay. I'm here."

"Don't let them take you away from me" She cried into his chest.

"I won't"

She looked up at him. "Promise?"

He glanced back at the nurse, ready to deduce her, when she nodded and left the room. "Promise"

* * *

**Sorry this took a while! For some reason I found it rather difficult to write and get it to where I wanted it. Also I know Sherlock doesn't believe in 'God', it just fit with the moment. Because I wanted to show a bit of how desperate he was, that he was willing to ask someone he doesn't even believe in to save her life. I hope people got that. If not, well that's what my intent behind that whole bit. Just in case you were like, what?! Anyway, thank you for reading as always, your comments make my day :D and I will see you next chapter!**


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